Easily
by proantagonist
Summary: It's not until Jane dies that Loki finally comes to Thor. Emotional hurt/comfort. Thorki slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: It's not until Jane dies that Loki finally comes to Thor. Emotional hurt/comfort. Thorki slash.

**Warnings**: There are potentially triggering elements in this story. Rated mature for explicit m/m sex, dubious consent, pseudo-incest, violence, and language.

If any of this bothers you, my other story _Bargaining_, is much tamer. I wrote this one because I needed to get my kink on, and there's no place for it there. This takes place maybe ten years in the future, post TDW.

* * *

Chapter One

It's not until four days after her funeral that Thor takes notice of the missing bottles.

He's been drinking. Gallons upon gallons of Midgardian alcohol in an effort to feel nothing. It's a difficult sensation to maintain, and so he compensates with quantity. But even as numb as his mind is, he still has enough wits to know that while he has been drinking heavily for days—all the while sitting and staring and blinking only when the whites of his eyes feel ready to split from dryness—there is no pile of bottles to show for it. So where are they?

Only one bottle sits before him—clear, unlabeled glass filled with amber liquid—and it hasn't run dry since he first brought it to his lips. It tastes strangely of home.

He's aware that something isn't right, but he's too drunk and grieved to care. And so he tilts the bottle upward and drains it down before stumbling to his feet. Leaving the satisfyingly empty bottle on the table, he turns his back on it and trudges out of the kitchen. He doesn't see the liquid inside refilling itself until it again kisses the rim.

Thor checks on Samantha, who is bundled up and asleep in her bed, and he kisses her little forehead goodnight and whispers that he loves her. He leaves her room quickly after that because she does not need to see her father in such a state. He's not the only one whose lost someone he loved.

He stumbles to his room—which used to be _their_ room—and drops himself onto the bed he doesn't remember tidying. He imagines nightmares will soon claim him. Her screams. The feeling of running through mud. Too slow. It's his curse to always be too slow. He did not think to haul his little brother into his arms before he fell into an abyss. Why did he ever think he could protect Jane?

* * *

But surprisingly, he does not dream, nor has he dreamt of anything at all since she died. He wakes with the rising of the sun, expecting his head to pound from overindulgence, but it merely aches with the need to get out of bed and stretch. As he forces himself upright and into the bathroom, he doesn't see the bleary-eyed reflection of a drunk, grieving widower. The dark circles under his eyes are minimal, and strangely, his hair is clean and free of its normal morning tangles. Even his clothes smell clean and have no wrinkles.

He is remarkably unchanged. Unaffected by her loss on the outside, when inside he feels ravaged. It's as if his own body refuses to allow him to be miserable.

He imagines Jane watching him with a look of scorn belonging to another. _Did you mourn?_ she might ask.

* * *

In the kitchen, the bottle of alcohol mocks him. It's full, of course, and he's sober enough to wonder if he's gone completely mad. Has he only been pretending to drink it?

"You're up," Samantha says.

Thor turns to see his daughter, who is fully dressed in her school clothes and staring up at him with her sharp, blue eyes. She is but six-years-old, in the first grade, but she acts much older. Closer to forty, these days.

"There's coffee in the pot," she adds. "I'll be home at two thirty."

Thor blinks at the steaming, half-full coffee pot. "Since when do you drink that?"

She huffs a sigh as she slings her backpack over her shoulder. "I don't."

"You have school today," Thor says. "I forgot. I, uh, I shall make you breakfast."

"I already ate. We're almost out of cereal."

Confused, Thor again turns his eyes to the kitchen. The counters are spotless, though he doesn't remember cleaning them, and there is no cereal bowl in the sink. His daughter cannot even _reach_ the sink. Nor the cabinets where the bowls are kept. Nor the coffee maker. A nervous feeling fills the pit of this stomach. But he will have to deal with that as soon as his daughter is safe.

"I will get you more," Thor says, combing his fingers through his hair. "What about your lunch?"

Samantha holds up her lunchbox, and Thor takes it from her suspiciously. Inside is carefully sliced and packaged fruit, a sandwich, and a bottle of juice.

"Daddy, I'm going to miss my bus," Samantha says, holding out her hand expectantly. She seems ready to stomp a foot if he doesn't snap out of it.

"All right. I will come with you."

Thor keeps hold of her lunchbox as he walks her out to the street in front of the house. He stands there with her, his fingers stroking her baby-fine blonde hair, as the school bus comes into view. His shoulders are tense as he realizes how clean her hair is—freshly washed.

"Samantha, was anyone in the house while I was asleep?"

She looks up at him, and her expression tells him he's not very smart—and that _he's_ supposed to be the grown up, not her. "Just Uncle Loki," she says, grabbing the lunchbox from his hands as the bus screeches to a halt before them.

* * *

After the bus leaves, his daughter tucked safely inside, Thor goes on a vengeful manhunt. He doesn't have to look very hard.

The little bastard sits on a boulder not ten feet from the back porch, elbows resting on his thighs with a steaming mug of coffee brought close to his lips. He does not drink from it, but merely holds it so that the scent adorns each breath that he inhales as he watches the sun rise over the desert. The morning air is frigid. Cold enough to freeze his breath so that it slips around his form like a misty cape.

Thor is absolutely dazed by the sight of him. Relief, anger, bitterness, gratefulness. It all tangles together in his chest, leaving him breathless.

As he approaches, Loki does not look up, but the tiny smirk on his face says all. He wears Midgardian clothing—a high-necked sweater the color of sage to ward off the morning chill. He's cut his hair recently, and it's shorter than Thor has seen it since before his brother's fall. All in all, he looks freakishly _normal_.

"It's so amusing to watch you work out a problem," Loki says. "Rather like watching an infant defecate in his pants."

Thor's hands ball into fists. His little brother is here at last, and he wants to beat the snot out of him and then haul him to his chest and never let go. Instead, Thor settles for shoving the little shit forcefully off of the boulder and sitting down on it himself. Loki laughs as he lands but looks a little sorry that his coffee spilled.

Thor rests his arms on his legs, breathing hard. It pleases him to see his brother beneath him in the dirt. He deserves no better. "Why are you here?" he bites out.

Loki's eyes narrow with purpose, and the boulder explodes into sand beneath Thor. He cries out and is soon sprawling on the ground beside his brother.

"No reason," Loki says, laughing breathlessly. "But I'm sure we'll find some way to pass the time."

He's lying, of course. There is always a _reason_. And though Thor wants to wrap his fingers around his brother's neck and _squeeze_, he suddenly finds words difficult to form because of the lump in his throat. Because he knows exactly why his brother is here, even though Loki will never admit it.

"How long have you been here?" Thor asks, eyeing a cut on his wrist left from his fall.

Loki rises to his feet and claps the dust from his hands. "Whatever do you mean? I've only just arrived."

Which means: _Since I heard, you imbecile. Who do you think has been taking care of you?_

"You have a funny notion of caring for someone," Thor says, as if Loki had spoken the words aloud. "Refilling my bottle until I drink myself sick."

If Loki's serene smile is unsettling, his silence is impossibly worse.

"What was I drinking?"

"Water." His smile spreads. "More or less."

"Loki."

"Well, I might have embellished it a bit."

"_Loki_."

"I mean, what is a 'bit,' anyway? Such a vague word. How I love the ambiguous ones."

When Thor rises to lunge at him, Loki holds out his palms in defense. "It was water, Thor. I swear it. And a simple spell to add flavor and a mind-numbing sedative. It's alcohol without the negative side effects. And as an added bonus, you're magnificently hydrated."

Thor flinches. "Have you touched her?"

Loki's eyebrows lift with a silent question, though he knows damn well who Thor means.

"My daughter," Thor says. "You have been in my house. Her hair is clean, her belly full, her lunch prepared. _Did you touch her, Loki?_"

Loki's lips press together. "Oh, Thor. You really think that little of me."

"I don't know what to think. I don't know who you are anymore."

"She looks like our mother," Loki says lightly. "So fear not. She will find no harm at my hands. I merely extracted the oil and potato chip crumbs from her hair with a spell and made sure she was adequately nourished. My deepest apologies for living."

Thor's pulse begins to slow. "That is the last thing you should ever apologize to me for. Loki, please—I beg you. Leave her be. Play your tricks on me all you want, but not her. I cannot lose anyone else. Not after mother. And Jane. And _you_."

Loki rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes. I promise to behave. At least in regard to her." He flashes a wicked grin.

"You mean to stay then?"

Thor isn't certain what he wants his brother's answer to be. He watches with mixed emotions as Loki leans down to pluck the coffee mug from the dirt. His hair is like the boldest ink smeared against the washed-out backdrop of the desert. No eyes have ever been so piercingly green or unapologetic. No mouth so eager to taunt. Thor's fingers twitch as he tries to swallow down his anger. It's all he can do not to lunge at him again. Though for what purpose, he doesn't know.

"I haven't decided," Loki says, his eyes looking his brother up and down. He takes a step backwards and lifts his chin with a smirk. "I suppose I'll know when it's time to leave. Speaking of which."

He folds his hands behind his back and inclines his upper body in a bow. And then he's gone. But even as Thor's heart aches with sudden loneliness and anger, he knows Loki is still close. His scent is in the air, and Thor fills his lungs with it several times before he finds the will to return to the house.

Back in the kitchen, Thor glares at the bottle, and it almost seems to glare mockingly back. Kicking the chair aside, Thor grasps the bottle at the neck and drops himself on the ground with his back resting against the cabinets.

Bringing the bottle to his lips, he sips at regular intervals until the numbness again comes to comfort him.

* * *

To be continued.

A/N – Hope you enjoyed. If you have a moment, please leave a review. They make me squeak in a most undignified manner. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning**: m/m sex, dubious consent, and mild violence. Those who are sensitive to these things should not read this.

* * *

Chapter Two

The next time Thor is inspired to move, it's because there's a hand slipping under his arm and hauling him off the floor. Sobriety hits him like a bucket of ice water to the face. As his vision sharpens into focus, he recognizes Loki, who pushes him into a chair at the kitchen table.

Loki gives him a hard look that says: _Pull it together._

There are footsteps on the front porch, and a moment later, the door swings open. The little crystals Jane hung on the glass panel dance in the sunlight. Samantha carefully takes off her shoes and lines them up next to her mother's, which Thor has not had the stomach to put away.

"And how was your educational experience?" Loki asks as she enters the kitchen.

Thor stares at his brother in amazement, wondering where the little bastard gets the nerve. He cannot think of anything more abnormal than the scene before him. And yet he doesn't make a move to stop it because he knows he can't provide his daughter the support she needs right now.

Samantha puts her backpack and lunchbox on the table and then peers up at her uncle with an eyebrow hoisted. "You're weird."

Loki's mouth twitches. "Are you hungry?"

She shakes her head.

"Very well. Let's see to your homework, then."

* * *

The next few hours pass in a bizarre fashion.

Loki helps Samantha with her schoolwork, all the while criticizing the menial mental feats they seem to expect from her. And so after they finish her handwriting worksheet, where she has to write each letter of the alphabet ten times, Loki pulls out a fresh sheet of paper and makes her write the words "I am smarter than my teachers realize" ten times instead. It's the first time Thor has seen her smile all week.

Afterward, Loki turns on the television for her. She watches Bugs Bunny with a vacant expression as he chops vegetables in the kitchen for dinner.

"I would not normally approve of the mindless animated nonsense they siphon into the children of Midgard," Loki says to Thor. He tosses a handful of celery and carrots into a pan, where they sizzle and pop in the hot oil. "But I shall give this one a pass. The rabbit is clever."

Thor draws in a breath, his eyes sweeping over his brother's appearance for the hundredth time. He's never seen him wear anything like the tailored but relaxed jeans or the fitted gray t-shirt. His sage-green sweater is folded carefully over the back of the kitchen chair, the air too warm with the stove on. Thor wonders if the strange normality of the Midgardian clothes and hair is on purpose, perhaps to make Samantha feel more at ease. His brother looks so young and unburdened that it makes Thor's heart ache.

"Loki—"

"Thor, if I might make a suggestion." Loki picks up the knife from the cutting board and pauses to let it catch the light. Then he sets about slicing a breast of raw chicken into cubes. "You and I get along much better when we do not speak our minds. Let's keep it nice and shallow, shall we?"

* * *

An hour later, Samantha sits at the kitchen table and looks down at the steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup set before her. Her lower lip protrudes slightly as her eyes turn upward to her uncle and father, who both stand before her, watching with their arms crossed.

"Day four," Loki tells her gently.

She sighs and nods. Then takes her spoon and fishes out a bite of chicken and carrot. Though she does not appear to enjoy it, she chews mechanically and swallows it down. A second bite soon follows. Thor feels the tension in his shoulders relent somewhat.

After she swallows her fourth spoonful, she looks up at Loki for approval, who nods and says, "There's a good girl. Off you go."

Without hesitation or even a backward glance, she slides from the chair and retreats into the living room.

Hours later, after Samantha is tucked into her bed and Loki has finished wiping down the counters, Thor finally speaks.

"She barely ate anything."

Loki rinses his cloth in the sink and takes his time squeezing the water out. Thor watches the muscles in his arms work and wonders what else he's been doing with them.

"Our agreement is that she takes one bite for every day since the funeral," Loki replies. "She'll be fine. A little more so each day." He speaks as if he's had experience with this method.

Thor's eyes shift immediately to her lunchbox, which now sits on the counter. He opens it and finds the fruit and bottle of juice untouched. Her sandwich is nearly whole as well, except for a purposeful bite taken out of each of the four corners. Thor leans his weight against the counter, feeling like he's been punched in the gut. "I do not know what to do. She needs her mother."

Loki takes the lunchbox from him with a shrug. "You'll figure it out. Why don't you sit down and eat something? Your daughter has taken in more sustenance today than you have all week."

Thor sits and watches wordlessly as Loki sets about reheating a bowl of soup for him. He repacks Samantha's lunchbox for the next day in the meantime. Loki is right, Thor realizes. The silence is easier for them. Or shallow words that hold no meaning except a passing observation of the present.

He wonders if it would have been possible for them to develop this sort of relationship sooner but decides the answer is no. Loki will only ever come to him again if Thor has run out of options and needs his help. The realization brings with it a wave of anxiety. He does not want his little brother to leave him again—and he _will_ go eventually, if not tonight, once he feels Thor can make it on his own. They might never see each other again. Loki could die somewhere in a dark corner of an ancient realm, and Thor would never even know. It's enough to make his teeth clench together in frustration at his brother's cruel selfishness.

He is _angry_. The corners of his eyes sting with it.

Though Loki watches him with growing wariness, he keeps his face smooth as he sets a bowl of soup in front of Thor and holds out a spoon. "Day four, brother," he says with the same gentleness as before. It's an echo of a past life that Thor wants nothing more than to reclaim.

Without thinking, his fingers close around Loki's wrist. The spoon clatters to the table. Thor gets to his feet and tugs his brother around until he's in front of him. There's a look of dread upon Loki's face at the sight of Thor's unflinching determination. Loki's obviously not sure what he means to do, and neither is Thor—but he does what first occurs naturally to him and hauls his little brother to his chest in an embrace. When Loki tenses and tries to twist away, Thor grips his hair at the nape of his neck and gives a yank. That, too, comes to him naturally.

"_No_," Thor bites out, pulling hard. "Be still, damn you."

Loki sighs but gives in, his body no longer resistant. "Well, this is awkward."

Another tug. "Shut up."

And then his hand relaxes in Loki's hair and smooths it down, coming to cradle the back of his head lovingly instead. And he's so tired of _thinking_ and _hurting_, and he just wants a quiet moment of peace and warmth and blissful physical contact. Though more than anything, he simply wants his brother.

So he presses his face into the nook behind Loki's ear—where his achingly familiar scent is the most pure—and inhales deeply. His mouth leaves a warm kiss there, and Loki shudders beneath his hands, his throat working hard as he swallows. Something stirs in Thor's belly as he watches it, his brother's scent doing unthinkable things to his mind. He works his hands down Loki's neck and back, massaging and squeezing the muscles gently on the downward descent to his hips. When he presses another kiss behind Loki's ear, his tongue flicks out to taste him there.

Loki gasps, his knees failing him for a brief moment. "Okay, that took an unexpected turn." Recovering quickly, he writhes and pushes against the trap of solid arms and chest. "Thor, we can't just—"

Thor's hand closes over his throat, choking out the remainder of his sentence. His hard, blue eyes deliver the promise of a threat even better than his words. "Stop. _Talking_." And then his head drifts to the side, his eyes closing as he parts his lips against his brother's.

Loki sinks down briefly in Thor's arms, his mouth warm and open, but then he rears his head back and away from the kiss in defiance.

"She will hear us," he hisses, pushing hard against his brother's chest with his palms. "Or walk in and see. For God's sake, Thor, get a grip on yourself."

* * *

Thor shoves him roughly through the doorway of his bedroom. "Get on the bed."

Loki stumbles to a halt and lifts his chin to the heavens with a sigh. "Or what?"

Unbuckling his belt, Thor makes sure the metal parts clink together as he slides it from the loops of his jeans. A wordless threat.

When Loki turns to look at him, his lips are parted as he pants for breath. "At least let me lock the door with a spell and mute the sound of your idiocy."

Thor strips off his shirt while he watches his brother press his palms against the door and whisper a few words. It takes but a second, though Loki tries to make it seem more involved than it really is. Thor grips him by the hair and inspires him to get on with it.

"Why are you doing this?" Loki asks, his head snapped back. "I've kept my promise."

Thor eyes the exposed throat greedily. He might consider answering the question if he had any idea what the truth was—but he has no clue _why_. He just wants contact. He wants to taste his brother's tongue and hear his little sounds of desperation. "I said get on the bed." He pushes Loki toward it again.

Loki obeys. He moves himself backwards toward the pillows, his eyes on Thor, unwilling to turn his back on him again. Thor drops his belt onto the mattress and moves over Loki, keeping the distance between their lips steady as Loki lies back onto the pillow. There's nowhere left to go. After dropping a whisper soft kiss onto his brother's jaw, Thor nudges Loki's thighs apart with his knee and settles between them. Their jeans rub together as they kiss—Thor hungrily, Loki compliantly, letting his mouth stay soft even against Thor's roughness. It's not until his brother's tongue slides against his that Loki's eyes drift shut and a shivering breath eases out of his nose.

Thor's hand drifts between them, and he yanks up the bottom of Loki's shirt. It's so strange to feel his brother's warm skin beneath him, normally so shielded by layer upon layer of leather and metal. He wants to taste every unexplored inch of him. Breaking away from the kiss, he starts at Loki's jawline, dragging his lips upward until he can again inhale the mind-altering scent behind his ear. As he mouths his way down Loki's exposed throat, his hips begin to rock.

"Oh, this is so, so incredibly awkward," Loki says, his chin angled upward to allow Thor room to work. "_Ah_."

Thor bites at the warm, pulsing neck, tempted to choke him again if he doesn't shut up. Instead, he pulls at Loki's shirt, exposing as much flesh as possible without taking it off, and dips his head down to press a kiss over his heart—then lower, licking between the defined muscles of his stomach and abdomen.

"You are an _asshole_," Loki hisses out.

"Do I need to gag you?"

A dry chuckle. "You would like that, wouldn't you? Depraved sot. I should have guessed how much you liked it the first time around."

Thor's tongue dips into his brother's belly button, and he loves the way it quakes and shudders beneath him. Like another hungry mouth to kiss. "I did like it. Every time you fight me, I will fight back harder. If you comply, I will be gentle. So you tell me, Loki. Tell me with your quips and your fists or with your kiss how you want me to treat you."

"And what if I say no altogether? Will you kill me?"

Thor laughs without humor. "Now we both know that wouldn't work. Just as we both know you wouldn't still be here if some part of you didn't like it. Your magic would have carried you away instantly. So what is it going to be, brother? Rough or gentle?" He palms Loki's erection through his jeans.

Loki's breath comes out in a rush, and then he's craning his neck upward to meet Thor's mouth again with his own. His little brother's hands are soft on the sides of his face, his mouth sweet and wet with just the slightest tease of mischievous teeth.

_Both_, he seems to say.

Thor responds in kind, true to his word that he would give back what Loki asked for. He presses him down on the bed, belly to belly, and lets his brother feel his full weight. His hips rock hypnotically as he cradles the back of Loki's head and licks kisses into his mouth. When Loki tugs at his hair and chuckles, Thor shakes him and growls, showing his teeth. And then it fades into another breathless moment of intoxication at each other's lips.

Thor grinds his erection hard against Loki's jeans and reaches his climax almost too easily. Loki laughs against Thor's mouth as he cries out, but even that fades away as Thor relaxes his weight on top of him and grows still. Hesitant fingers reach to stroke Thor's hair at his neck.

"My brother," Loki whispers. "You are seriously fucked up in the head. How nice to have company at last. I can't breathe, you idiot. Get off."

Thor rolls onto his side, pressing a kiss into Loki's neck as he takes him with him. "I love you," he says, still breathing hard as he hugs him tight. "I love you so damn much, and if you leave me again, I will kill you. I swear I will."

Loki laughs wearily into the cool, damp skin of Thor's shoulder. "Now why does that sound familiar? I'm starting to think all your threats are idle." If not for the glint of the metal belt buckle on the bed beside him, his tone might have been more convincing.

He speaks no more and falls asleep soon after, but Thor lies awake for hours. He thinks he should feel something like guilt—because he still wears Jane's ring and because the last thing he wants to do is hurt or use his little brother—but he feels only relief instead.

It had all come too easily to him.

Loki is right. He is sick.

* * *

To be continued.


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Porn.

* * *

Chapter Three

The sun is not yet up, but through the bedroom window, the eastern horizon has just started to lighten with the promise of morning. The room is dark and hushed save for the quiet whoosh of the heater kicking on.

Thor lies awake. He has not slept a wink but did manage to find rest of a sort, lying there at peace with his little brother. They are tangled up in each other, blissfully lazy and warm beneath a heavy blanket.

Thor is on his side with Loki facing him. His arm rests under his younger brother's neck like a pillow, and his body is angled forward to cocoon Loki protectively. Loki sleeps, his face pressed into Thor's arm, and Thor strokes his jawline with his fingertips, drinking in the sight of his brother so quiet and tranquil. Loki seems exhausted, as if he has not found true rest in many years. When he exhales and shifts, snuggling closer to Thor's warmth, Thor bends his arm at the elbow. The movement pulls Loki's head closer to him, tucking him safely within his embrace.

As Loki begins to stir, he shifts his position slightly again. His hips press forward as if searching for contact. When Thor feels his brother's morning arousal press against his abdomen, his fingers brush against the button of Loki's jeans before he allows himself to think. He unsnaps it and slides his palm down flat against his brother's skin, drawing the zipper open with his wrist. Loki isn't wearing anything underneath, and Thor's fingers soon close over the velvet soft skin that sheathes his brother's erection.

He's long and taut in Thor's hand, built much like Loki himself. Loki gives a soft moan, and by the time Thor has taken him into his palm and started a series of slow pulls, Loki's eyelashes flutter open only slightly. "I am going to kill you," he whispers.

"Shut up," Thor whispers back, but there's no heat in the words. Loki is relaxed and compliant in his arms, and Thor watches hungrily as his brother presses his parted lips into Thor's shoulder, his breaths quickening and growing uneven. Thor works harder but not faster, drinking in his brother's reactions, figuring out what he likes, taking comfort in the little gasps and shudders for reasons he doesn't even understand.

When Loki starts to shift restlessly, breathing curses into his brother's skin, Thor's own arousal stretches painfully against his jeans. But he doesn't move to touch himself or ask Loki to do so either. Witnessing his pleasure is enough—somehow exactly what Thor needs and craves. His eyes are glued to Loki's face—on his dark eyelashes against his cheek and the parted, soft lips he kissed so thoroughly hours earlier. When climax finally takes Loki, Thor memorizes the desperate, pleading arch of his brother's neck and the feel of his warm seed as it spills unto his hand. After Thor's hand stops moving, he doesn't let go of Loki's cock, but his grip softens while his little brother calms. Thor pulls Loki closer and rests his lips against his forehead.

They stay like that, dozing for a few minutes. And then with a sigh, Thor reluctantly moves and reaches over to the nightstand for a box of tissues. He cleans them both up and then lies down again. Flat on his back and separated from his brother. He feels a strange rush of sadness. The moment is gone. His eyes are focused only on the ceiling.

It's Loki who watches him now, lying on his side with his hand resting on the pillow next to his face. "Thor?" he asks quietly after a moment. "Are you well?"

"Why do I want this?" Thor asks the ceiling.

Loki combs a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. The ends curl around his fingers. "Because it feels good. It's sex, Thor. Don't be so dramatic."

"We are brothers."

"Well, I would remind you we technically aren't, but I'm starting to think you rather like that part."

Thor turns his head to look at him. "What's wrong with me?"

"It's called grief," Loki replies, not unkindly. "Your emotions are in turmoil, and you're acting out. Lashing out. Then crashing. You think I mean to leave you so very soon after you lost someone else, and you're hanging on with everything you've got. To my cock, apparently." He huffs out a laugh and rolls onto his back with a smile.

Thor doesn't laugh with him. He only stares, his eyes filled with a sad kind of dread. "And am I wrong? Or do you really mean to stay?"

Loki turns his head to stare back, blinking languidly every few seconds. "Not that my advice means anything to you, but I would try very hard to stop thinking. One foot in front of the other. Mind turned off. It's the only way."

"You would have me stop grieving."

"No. That will never end when you love someone."

Thor grits his teeth. "I don't need _you_ to tell me that."

"I just mean if you start thinking too hard and sinking deeper and deeper into yourself, you run the risk of missing things."

"Like Samantha. And you."

"Well, I don't know about the latter. But yes, the former."

Thor falls silent for a long while. He thinks about his little girl, sleeping only a few rooms over, and he worries about her. Thor knows he's not emotionally capable of being a good father to her right now, and it scares him to death. "I need your help, Loki."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"I want you to promise me you'll stay."

Loki's jaw tightens, and his eyes drift shut as he swallows.

"Please, Loki. If I mean anything to you at all—"

"_All right_. Norns, you can whine."

It's not exactly the promise Thor asked for, but he knows better than to push Loki any further. Thor inches closer, his head coming to rest on the pillow next to his brother's. "Thank you," Thor whispers.

He can't resist touching him for long. His little brother's eyes stay shut as Thor's fingers find his hair and stroke down his warm neck and arm. "You're much gentler when you're drowsy," Thor says. "Sweeter. More like I remember."

"Your memory is poor," Loki mutters into the pillow. "Wait until I have caffeine in my body. You will regret those words."

Thor's hand finds Loki's cheek, his thumb running along his lower lip. "You and I were not always at war, my brother."

Loki's eyes open, golden green in the growing light. "Do you ever shut up?" His hand moves to his brother's waistband, but Thor catches it at the wrist. Loki rolls his eyes. "Really? _Now_ you get shy?"

"What do you mean to do?"

"Well, I thought perhaps some juggling or a lesson in crochet. What do you think?"

After pulling his wrist free, Loki pushes on Thor's shoulder until he lies flat on his back. He kicks the blankets away and slides down the bed, one hand on his brother's thigh while he makes quick work of the button and zipper of Thor's jeans.

"You should consider washing these today," Loki says, indicating the dried mess on the front. "And you're welcome."

Thor watches him warily, not quite ready to trust, but that doesn't stop the sigh of relief that escapes him when Loki tugs his cock free with unflinching boldness. He thinks perhaps his little brother just means to touch him, but he dips his head down instead.

Loki starts with a lingering kiss to the tip, and Thor isn't certain what turns him on more—the feel of his brother's soft lips against his cock or the sight of it. Loki flicks his tongue out next, gently teasing the underside, and Thor is _lost_. He sinks down into the bed, breathing out a string of curses, and Loki turns his eyes up to look at him with a mischievous grin. Then he goes back to work.

He takes his time, teasing with his kisses, licks, and strokes before wrapping his lips around just the head and running his tongue all over it. Thor's fingers grip handfuls of his brother's hair with a moan. Loki makes a small sound of protest, and that inspires Thor's grip to tighten. He has never been so hard in his life. As Loki's mouth takes more of him in, gripping his cock at the base while working his head lower and deeper still, Thor begins to suspect Loki is using magic to literally suck more blood-flow into his cock. He stares at his little brother, unable to do anything but watch and _feel_.

But the best part by far is watching. He could find sex anywhere. Good sex, at that. But this—his brother's wicked little mouth all over him—is deeply, unimaginably satisfying.

Thor grips Loki's hair harder, breathing his name as he stares down at him with hunger. Loki pulls away from Thor's cock with a _pop_ and says, "Would it be too much to ask that you look at the ceiling or perhaps close your eyes altogether? It's like trying to get off back in Asgard, knowing Heimdall is watching."

Thor again rubs his thumb across Loki's pliant lips and then pushes it gently into his mouth. "I don't want to look at the ceiling."

Loki laughs as he sucks on Thor's finger. It pulls away and trails a wet path down his chin and across his jaw. "Out of curiosity, exactly how long have you harbored this lust for me?"

Thor's fingers keep moving along his brother's neck until they close around his throat—still gentle. "Since you started talking back."

"I see," Loki says, his voice vibrating against Thor's palm. "If that's the case, my jaw is going to be very sore indeed by the time I finally depart."

Thor's fingers tighten, the skin around his eyes pinching together. "You are not leaving," he says in a low, ominous tone.

Loki's throat works as he struggles to swallow. "I said I wouldn't," he manages breathlessly. The hand loosens its pressure, and Loki puts his own hand on top of it. He guides it down to his chest, lacing his fingers through Thor's as they relax. "I'm not leaving, brother. Rest now and be still. Let me see to you."

They meet in a mutual kiss, neither certain who moves for it first. Loki uses his free hand to continue to work Thor toward climax, his other hand still interlaced with his brother's. Their mouths open against each other, their tongues meeting and lingering lazily.

There is no urgency in the moment, not even when Thor exhales a sharp gasp, and Loki once more dips his head down. He takes Thor into his mouth again and works until his brother loses himself completely. Like before, it's the sight of Loki going down on him that trumps all else. Thor grips his brother's hair and whispers his name several times in succession, his eyelids drooping, heavy and sated. His thumbs move to stroke Loki's cheekbones lovingly as his brother swallows in obedience.

* * *

To be continued.

A/N – Mmm, lazy morning sex. Hope you enjoyed. If you have a moment, I'd love to hear your thoughts. (Which do you like better—rough or gentle? I can't seem to choose, myself.) Cheers!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I know Loki is a bad guy, but in mythology, he's also a parent. There are no malicious intentions here with Samantha. None, zip, zero. She is there to keep them from killing each other and to give them something else to focus on outside of their issues. In my head, I picture Loki as being very protective of his children, and I've therefore extended that protection to his niece. I haven't heard of anyone squirming out there, but I hope that helps you relax just in case you were worrying. :)

Warning: Dubious consent, violence, and potentially triggering elements.

It is so, so very odd to write _that_ warning after _that_ author's note. And yet here we are. Welp!

* * *

Chapter Four

True to his word, Loki becomes far more antagonistic once he's had his morning coffee. He's already downed one cup and is halfway through the second when he reappears in the bedroom while Thor dresses.

"Rule number one," Loki says, holding up a finger right in his brother's face. "Unless we are magically sealed in this room or alone in this house with the front door sealed, you are not to touch me. I am not to be held responsible for the corruption of that little girl in there. Do you understand?"

Thor bats his brother's hand away as he zips up a pair of clean jeans. His eyes are on Loki's mouth, which is talking back to him again. He had warned his little brother about that. "Agreed."

"I mean it, Thor. Don't even look at me. You've been doing it since I arrived. Eyes above the waist. Better yet, eyes above my head. Rule number two. No talking about anything remotely having to do with our past. I can handle you needing to talk about your wife, but if I hear anything else, I will be gone before you make it to the second syllable."

Thor takes a folded shirt out of his dresser drawer and looks down at it sadly. "You truly mean for us never to reconcile, then?"

Loki snorts and drinks from his cup of coffee as if it soothes his nerves. "Please. Your daughter does not need to witness _that_ particular fight, and I think one or both of us might not survive it. We are brothers. We get over it when there's need. We can kill each other later. I want your promise."

Thor is silent as he tugs the shirt over his head. His heart feels impossibly heavy.

Loki hisses out a curse through his teeth. "Very well. Then know once you start inevitably yammering on about it that you've essentially asked me to leave. This coffee is terrible. Haven't you any sense of pride in your household?" After draining his cup, he turns and stalks out of the bedroom in a mood.

Once he's alone, Thor's shoulders sag. His arms hang heavy at his sides. Though he can't explain it, he feels as if Loki stole the very air out of the room when he left.

* * *

Loki makes Samantha a Belgian waffle for breakfast. He cuts it up into exactly five pieces, places a strawberry slice on each one, and dribbles on a bit of honey to make it more appealing to her.

"Day five," he reminds her as he sets the plate down.

The little princess looks down at her breakfast and then up at him with reddened cheeks. She is not impressed with his attempts to trick her into eating larger bites. "That's _cheating_._"_

"Indeed it is," Loki admits as he sits in the chair across from her. "Dearest niece, I am afraid your uncle is a very badly behaved individual. I look to you to teach me by example and show me how to be good and pure. You can start by eating your promised five bites of breakfast like the obedient little angel I know you to be."

Samantha picks up her fork, shoots him a defiant glare, and stabs a strawberry. She eats only that and gets another strawberry while she chews. Loki's mouth twitches into a smile, which he quickly hides behind his hand. He watches her eat just the five berries and ignore the waffle altogether.

"Day five," she says as she puts down the fork. "I know how to cheat, too."

Loki's lips are pressed tightly together to stifle his laughter as Samantha slides out of her chair. He gets up to fetch her lunchbox for her and pretends not to notice when she sneaks back to grab two pieces of the waffle. She hides them in a napkin, which she covertly slips into her coat pocket, before turning to take the lunchbox from him with an angelically sarcastic smile.

Loki's shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as she marches out of the front door. When Thor comes to stand beside him, Loki says, "I find I've grown rather fond of my niece. Thor, she is _brilliant_."

Thor moves to follow his daughter. His heart still feels strangely hollow, but he ignores it for the present, at least long enough to get her onto the school bus. He looks back at Loki over his shoulder and says, "Hurt her, and I will grind you into a greasy stain on the floor."

"Believe me, brother. If I ever brought her to harm, I would allow you to."

* * *

Thor's hand lovingly strokes Samantha's head while they wait for the bus. Her cheeks are filled with a hasty bite of waffle.

"Does your uncle make you uncomfortable at all?"

She swallows and huffs out a sigh as she balls up her empty napkin. "He thinks he's _so smart_."

"Because if he does, I will ask him to leave."

Samantha looks up at him, her blue eyes uncertain. "He's going to leave?"

Thor frowns at her sudden uneasiness. He hadn't considered that she might become attached to Loki, though he probably should have. Loki was easy enough to ignore when he was around, but the moment he was gone, the empty hole he left in his place was indescribably painful. "I think he means to stay, actually, which is why I'm asking you. He can only stay if you allow it."

There are hints of tears in Samantha's eyes, but as she processes her father's words, she blinks them away. Her eyes turn instead to the school bus, which is stopped further down the street, lights flashing. "He can have the guest bedroom, I guess," she says, handing him her empty napkin.

Thor strokes her hair again, but Samantha shoos his hand away now that the bus is approaching. "Has he been kind to you?" Thor asks.

Samantha shrugs and kicks at the ground. "He's not mean. He cooks okay."

"And you will tell me if you are ever uncomfortable or if he's mean to you?"

"Yes, Daddy. I'm not stupid."

Thor stoops down, pulling her close with the intention of giving her a goodbye kiss. "I didn't say you were. I love you, Sam."

She rears away from his kiss and pushes until he lets go. Thor stares at her, his arms cold and empty. As she gets on the bus without saying goodbye, he's left wondering what he did wrong.

* * *

"Thor?" Loki asks quietly.

There is no reply. Thor has taken up residence on the couch, arms wrapped around his middle like he has a stomachache. He stares into nothing.

Loki sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair. "I'm going out. If I'm to stay here, I need to acquire some things. So try not to panic once I'm gone and wring my neck when I reappear. Are you even listening to me?"

Thor's eyes drift shut. "Is there alcohol?"

"I rather think you've had enough."

Loki says more after that, but Thor doesn't listen. Eventually the energy in the house changes, and Thor knows he's alone.

The phone rings several times. The answering machine picks up Pepper Potts' message to call her if he needs anything—as well as a plea to reconsider moving closer to his friends. He hears the words, but nothing registers. He just feels cold as he tries to understand why everyone always leaves him behind, choosing instead to go where he can't follow.

* * *

Loki returns in a flurry of motion. He sets down shopping bags on the kitchen table and wears a breathless smile. His eyes are bright, his cheeks flushed from the sunny winter chill of the desert.

"Thor, isn't it about time you extracted yourself from your ennui?"

Thor's eyes shift in his direction. His brother is dressed strangely albeit stylishly, wearing black skinnies, a wool coat with a high-necked collar, and an ornate scarf. But the house is warm, and so Loki pulls off the scarf and folds it carefully. The coat soon follows, revealing the expensive cut of a well-tailored white dress shirt. A black vest and tie finish off the look. New Mexico's style is far more relaxed. Loki would have stuck out like a sore thumb in this outfit, which was likely his intent upon choosing it.

"I come with glad tidings," Loki says with a smile. He pulls a large box from a bag, revealing a brand new espresso machine. He points at the old coffeemaker accusingly. "That insufferable device must come to ruin."

Thor exhales and closes his eyes again. He wonders where his little brother got the money but simply doesn't care enough to ask. He just wants to sleep.

"Thor?"

Silence.

"Are you really just going to lie there all day and night? Get up. Have a little pride."

No response.

Loki sighs and looks around helplessly. Then he unbuttons his vest and places it carefully to the side before he mutters, "Norns, help me. This is going to hurt."

Gritting his teeth, his hand moves out in a gesture of attack. Green energy shoots toward Thor, who is suddenly overtaken by a kind of electric shock. It steals his breath away, lighting his very senses on fire as he writhes. When it finally leaves him, Thor jumps off of the couch with a roar. Loki doesn't even hesitate before breaking into a run.

Thor has Loki by the throat before he makes it to the backdoor, and they go down together to the ground, wrestling and struggling. Thor pins Loki's hips with his lower body while he twists his brother's arms behind his back.

"I was just trying to get you up," Loki begs him. "I meant no harm! _I swear_."

Thor holds both of Loki's wrists together with one hand, and uses his free one to unbuckle his belt. Loki gasps and starts struggling harder. The movement feels good against Thor's growing erection.

"Thor, listen to me . . ."

"I'm listening," Thor seethes, ripping his belt free of the loops. His hand pulls hard on the waistband of Loki's pants. "I just don't care."

The button on Loki's pants doesn't stand a chance. It pops off and the zipper gives way easily after that. "Thor," Loki pleads, writhing as Thor drags the fabric down, exposing his little brother's muscled, pale flesh to him. "What are you doing?"

Thor snaps the belt and brings it down hard on Loki's ass—three strikes in quick succession—and Loki is left breathless and reeling from the blows, too stunned to even speak. Thor exhales in pleasure, palming one of the cheeks in his hand as the red marks begin to surface on it. He unzips his pants and tugs down harder on Loki's, exposing more enticing flesh to torture.

He maneuvers Loki up onto his knees but pushes his shoulders down so that his brother's head is still resting on the carpet. There is too much fabric hiding Loki's skin from him, so Thor roughly pulls on the shirt until his brother cries out. The necktie prevents the dress shirt from coming off, and Thor growls as he tugs it away. The shirt comes next, as well as an undershirt, and Loki has to twist his neck and arms to get out of it all at the speed Thor demands. Thor reestablishes the grip he has on Loki's wrists and binds them together behind his brother's back, making use of the discarded necktie. Thor tugs down his zipper and readies himself.

Loki makes a sound of panic as he feels his brother's erection push against him. It's soon apparent that he's too tense to allow it to happen. His legs quiver, knees ready to give way.

"Let me in," Thor hisses—and then he slaps Loki's ass so hard that his palm throbs afterward. Then he does it again and again until Loki goes lax with pain and desperation. When the head of his cock finally pops in, Thor exhales in quiet wonder while Loki's knees slide open wider.

"Thor, I can't . . . I can't . . . you're too . . ."

But Thor isn't listening. His hips have started to rock, his fingers tightening on Loki's imprisoned wrists. He sacrifices his grip so that he can place one hand on Loki's bright red cheek to spread it wider. It's an amazing thing to be able to see himself working in and out of his brother, who is already stretched wide to accommodate just a fraction of his girth. Thor's hand rubs over Loki's hot, red skin in reverent wonder. Then he slaps it hard.

Loki gasps and cries out his brother's name in desperation.

Every time Loki tightens in pain from one of Thor's strikes, he reels and relaxes soon after, which allows Thor to slip just a bit deeper. And so he keeps doing it—with Loki trembling and cursing beneath him, nearly flush with the ground, legs tangled in his pants, his skin enflamed and beautiful—until Thor is finally fully sheathed within. Loki gives up, his body going fully lax beneath him. Thor lets his brother's wrists go, though they are still tied behind his back.

"I'm going to kill you," Loki gasps into the floor. He hisses out other threats and insults while Thor ruts into him. He tries to fight when he can find the strength, but it's a futile effort. Thor is so deep inside of him that getting away seems impossible. But not even that stops Loki from speaking his mind.

And yet Thor can't help but notice that the one thing Loki never says is _stop_.

Despite the show his little brother is putting on for him, Thor knows exactly what Loki is doing. He's surprised the little bastard doesn't turn around and smirk triumphantly at him.

"You asked for this," Thor tells him, twisting his fingers in Loki's hair. "So shut your mouth and take it. Fight back again. I dare you. Let's see what happens when you do." His free hand slaps Loki's ass cheek without pity.

Loki's threats dissolve into outright pleading soon after. It pisses Thor off that Loki is so talented at this—at playing the part of the victimized submissive lover. Loki gasps and moans and begs in just the right way, all the while angling his hips upward to allow Thor better passage. It's infuriating, and Thor pounds into him harder in punishment. The feeling is indescribable.

"You've done this before. Who was it, Loki?" _Slap_.

"I haven't!"

_Slap slap twist._

"Don't lie to me."

Though both of them know Loki should keep doing exactly that. That way, Thor can punish him for it.

"Brother, please!"

Thor scrapes his nails down Loki's back so that he can see more reddened, marked skin. Loki writhes and cries out beneath him, and Thor can tell from the way his brother clenches up that he's climaxed into the floor. Though he hadn't given him permission to do so, the sight of Loki coming does Thor in as well. He pulls out and spills his seed onto Loki's tortured flesh because he wants to see it. It's a satisfying sight—the tiny beads of moisture clinging to Loki's skin.

Thor's hands become gentler, smoothing curiously over the angry marks he made. After he calms, he uses Loki's undershirt to clean his brother up, and then he unties Loki's hands so that he can slip away. Loki shakes visibly as he stumbles to his feet and tugs up his pants.

Thor knows it's an act, but that doesn't stop him from asking, "Did I hurt you?"

Loki snorts as he zips up. His button is gone and so his pants sag low on his hips. He is beautiful. "Oh, that is _rich_," Loki bites out. "I'm not going to answer that."

"Why not?"

Loki spins around, green eyes practically murderous. "Because if I say no, I don't want you to _try harder_."

Thor gets to his feet and zips up as well. "I know you can handle pain, but I would never want to push it past a certain point. I need you to tell me."

"No, Thor. You didn't. Very little hurts me anymore."

Thor flinches. "What do you mean by that?"

Loki ignores him. "I would, however, like to establish a safe word." At Thor's confused expression, he explains. "It's a word we agree upon. When I say it, you stop whatever it is you're doing and back away immediately. Moreover, you remove anything that happens to be on me, around me, or _in_ me before doing so."

"You could just tell me to stop, Loki. I would listen."

"The point of having a safe word is so that you can ignore those pesky little words like '_no'_ and '_don't'_ and '_please, not there_.' Sometimes the struggle is the best part."

Thor feels a fresh twinge of arousal low in his abdomen. Again, he has the suspicion that Loki has done this before, and it infuriates him. "A safe word, then."

"How about 'All-Father'?" Loki suggests, his teeth flashing derisively. "That's sure to kill your lust in an instant. Unless, of course, you're more perverted than even I imagined."

Thor shuts his eyes briefly and tries to calm his fury. His fingers itch for a neck to strangle.

"You know, I bought something else today at the store that I am just _dying to show you_," Loki says, radiating fury. He marches over to the kitchen table, pulls a little bottle out of a bag, and holds it up so his brother can see. "It's called _LUBRICANT._"

With that, he pitches the bottle at Thor, and it bounces soundly off of his forehead.

Thor is stunned for a brief moment—before he crouches and growls, fingers clenching inward.

The level of Loki's shoulders drops. His eyes grow huge and round. "Well, fuck. I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

If Loki's speed is somewhat lacking in his flight to get away from Thor's rage, neither of them mention it. It's all part of the game.

* * *

To be continued.

A/N – Thank you for reading!

I'm not sure if the description "emotional hurt/comfort" really works for this story. Is there such a thing as "manipulative little bastard hurt/comfort"?


	5. Chapter 5

A/N – I've received a few requests for Loki's POV, and I actually did try this chapter that way at first because I adore writing him. But I don't know—it just didn't feel right. I think this is big brother's story. :) _Bargaining_ belongs to Loki.

Warning – dubious consent and sexual content.

* * *

Chapter Five

Thor turns the shower as hot as it will go and welcomes the way it bites at his skin. Steam rises from his shoulders, loosening the stiffness there. He bends his neck back and then slowly lets it roll forward until the burning stream of water pours directly onto the crown of his head. It feels good on his sore muscles—even better on his mind—but if he's hurting this badly, he can't imagine how Loki feels.

Even though Thor's eyes fixate on the water pooling at his feet, he barely sees it. He doesn't know what the hell he thinks he's doing.

"_Stop thinking," Loki had whispered, his lips spread against Thor's in his wicked little smile. "Fuck me."_

All of it is beyond perverse, and somehow that's the best part. An itch begging for nails to scrape at it.

The day has been spent beneath the sheets, hands and mouths exploring, their bodies slick and relaxed after hours of play. Thor's mouth tingles at the memory; his lips are swollen and well used. He's spent hours with them occupied by some part of his brother, whether it was his neck or the hollow beneath his hipbone or whatever else presented itself.

Thor has never wanted to dominate someone so badly, but it's a near impossible task. As submissive as Loki pretends to be at times, he will never stop fighting back. Thor wants to hold his brother down until he has no will left but Thor's—because then maybe Loki will finally _stop_. Maybe he'll stay and _listen_ and understand how much Thor wants him there.

Loki plays his part well, taunting with his eyes and words but fighting back only hard enough to motivate Thor to hold on tighter. Loki lets his brother dominate him, but it's not out of weakness. They both know he will never be tamed—just as they both know he will eventually leave.

There, alone in the shower with water dripping from his hair and downturned face, Thor lets himself cry for the first time since the funeral. It hurts—all of it—knowing she's gone forever and that his brother is soon to follow. The shower washes away the evidence of Thor's grief almost immediately, and although it seems impossible, he feels a bit lighter and more like himself by the time he's ready to shut the water off.

He dries his body with a towel he doesn't remember washing and dresses in clean clothes he doesn't remember folding. Everywhere is evidence of Loki's unspoken attempts to take care of him while he grieves. Thor's chin lifts as he finds his reflection in the mirror. His face seems much older than it should be, but he feels more centered now—less like he's breathing in poisoned air intent on clouding his mind. His heart will never be whole again, but he will live on.

At least until Loki leaves.

* * *

When Thor emerges from the bathroom, his eyes immediately find Loki where he lies sleeping on the bed. The blanket is kicked to the floor, but the sheets have somehow managed to survive their early afternoon activities. The thin white cotton is draped over Loki's lower half, wrinkled and creased in the most distracting places. He's naked, asleep on his stomach, lips parted and soft. His fingers grip the bottom sheet, tensed even in sleep. He looks cold.

It's the second time Thor has noted how exhausted Loki appears. It's not like him to fall asleep so immediately and deeply, as though he's starved for it. Loki's active mind has always kept him awake long after everyone else has drifted off into their dreams. Thor worries as he wonders where his brother has been all these years, but he knows Loki will never tell him. At least he's home for now, and that's something to be glad for.

Thor stoops to retrieve the blanket from the floor and tugs it back into place on the bed. It's a shame to cover up Loki's skin, which Thor has seen so seldom in his life. As he sits on the edge of the bed beside his brother, Loki groans and shifts the direction of his head until his face is buried into the pillow.

The way his fingers tighten around the sheets brings about memories.

"_My brother," Thor had whispered in Loki's ear as he took him. The endearment is sin itself. Not simply Loki's name but the very reason he shouldn't want this. Loki had groaned when Thor had said it, gripping the sheets hard as he exhaled in pleasure—then he'd laughed to cover up his slip._

Thor wants to smile at the recollection but struggles to remember how. His hand brushes over Loki's bare shoulder, remembering how he'd suckled and nipped at his brother's skin with his teeth. The marks are gone now.

"Back slowly away from my ass," Loki mutters into the pillow. "Else I be tempted to rid you of yours."

Thor's smile comes to him effortlessly then. Undeterred by the threat, his hand slips lower, drawing the blanket down as his palms come to rest on the smooth expanse of his brother's back. Loki inhales sharply and tenses up as Thor begins to massage.

"Easy," Thor says. "I only punish you when you misbehave. Act like this, and you need not fear me."

Loki scoffs and turns his face to the side so that his cheek again rests on the pillow. "Yes, that will most certainly inspire me to turn over a new leaf."

The tension in Loki's muscles is difficult to diffuse, but eventually Thor manages it. His hands are sizeable, always a bit too warm, but they serve him well for this task. Soon Loki's stiffness melts beneath the pressure of his brother's fingers.

"I suppose when I finally kill you one day, I will show mercy and make your death reasonably painless," Loki says. His eyes close as Thor finds a sore spot beneath his left shoulder blade. "Yes, right there."

Thor draws down the blanket further. Goosebumps spring up on Loki's skin, and Thor soothes them away with the warmth of his palms. The blanket is now around Loki's waist, and Thor's enjoyment in the moment soon vanishes. He hadn't spotted it before, but there in the middle of Loki's back near his spine is a thin scar, several inches in length. It's from the blade that pierced his brother in Svartalfheim—the one that had supposedly killed him.

Thor has no idea how Loki survived such a wound. He knows he should be angry with Loki for not letting him know he lived on, but Thor is so grateful that his little brother's heart still beats that he can't muster up the will to challenge him over the betrayal. At least for the present. One day, Thor will ask him what happened and where he's been, but it's far too soon for that. Loki is right. The fight that would no doubt follow might very well kill one of them.

"I do prefer it when you don't incite my anger," Thor says quietly as his thumb runs across the scar. He's willing to bet there's a similar one on Loki's chest. "I enjoy being gentle with you."

Loki chuckles, turning his head so that Thor can see the way his lips curl into a smile. "Just as much as you liked laying into me with your belt, I think."

Thor might be more inspired to feel guilty over the words if Loki hadn't shifted his hips at that moment in a very mind-befuddling way. The marks Thor's belt had left on Loki's skin had healed quickly, but Thor remembers how they had burned hot beneath his curious hands. He wants to do it all over again every time Loki mocks his affection so openly, but despite his words and actions, Thor can sense his brother wants gentleness now. Loki soaks up the physical attention hungrily, just as he had his moments of sleep. He's starving for it.

The question is on his lips: _Where have you been, brother?_

But instead, Thor asks, "Is any of this enjoyable at all? Does it mean anything to you?"

With an impatient sigh, Loki rolls over onto his back and brings an arm to rest casually behind his neck. "As I've stated before, it's _sex_. Is it really that hard to turn your brain off?"

Thor's eyes fall to Loki's chest and find the matching scar—the entry wound of Kurse's blade. His hands feel empty without his brother's skin beneath them. "Yes," he says.

Loki smirks as he always does when he feels the need to protect himself against emotion. "That was a trick question. I'll leave you to guess why, though the punch line suggests you won't be able to."

"I'm familiar with sex, Loki. I know the difference between that and this."

The smirk degrades into an outright sneer. "And what do you think this is? _Making love?_ You're pathetic."

Thor's brow knits with skepticism. Little more than an hour ago, their foreheads had come together as they rode the slow wave to their climax. They had inhaled each other's breath. Thor is just as familiar with intimacy as he is with sex, but perhaps Loki isn't—or else he's trying his best not to show Thor that he feels the connection as well.

"You are lucky my temper has burned out," Thor says.

"Hmm," Loki says, eyeing his brother up and down. "For once we agree."

Thor's hand closes around his brother's wrist. "Don't say it like that. I will always stop if you ask me to."

Loki twists his arm away with a dismissive laugh. "And therein lies the catch. I wouldn't ask."

"Why?"

"Because you need it, and I can handle it."

"I don't want you to handle it. I want you to enjoy it."

Loki's smile remains unfazed, his eyes bright with rebelliousness, as if nothing would give him more pleasure than mocking Thor's every word. "Look at you," Loki says. "Upright and talking. Showered and dressed. If you eat something, you might just start looking like a god again. Who knew my ass had such magical, therapeutic qualities? Or is it my tongue that did the trick?"

"Is it really necessary to deflect every ounce of affection aimed at you?" Thor asks.

"Well, yes. I find it to be an unpleasant, soggy sort of thing. Very cumbersome and dull."

Thor smiles at his brother, but his teeth clench behind his lips. "I think you feel more than you let on."

Loki laughs, refusing to be drawn in or intimidated by Thor's growing anger. "I admit, I feel quite a bit in my nether regions right now. Thank you so very much for the honor."

Thor's fingers curl around his brother's knee. "You're talking back to me again."

"Right. Well, then." Loki pushes Thor's hand aside and is careful not to touch his brother again as he exits the bed. Without another word, he heads to the bathroom for a shower.

* * *

"Are you fighting?" Samantha asks them later that night over dinner.

The three of them sit at the kitchen table, Thor and Loki at opposite ends with Samantha in the middle. Loki has prepared a meal of roasted chicken with potatoes, vegetables, and a salad, but Samantha won't touch a bite of it. She sits with a half-eaten bowl of strawberries before her instead. Her lips and fingers are stained red.

Thor looks at Loki, who avoids his brother's gaze as he chases a green bean around his plate with a fork.

"Of course not," Thor assures his daughter. His mood and focus have improved considerably since he's finally eaten something substantial, but the tension between the brothers is still palpable. It's no wonder his daughter has picked up on it. "Your uncle and I were just, um. Well, you see, we were—"

"The answer is yes, dearest niece," Loki says with a tight smile. "Your father and I are fighting."

Samantha's blue eyes narrow, cautious with a hint of distress. "About what?"

Loki looks up at her, and Thor watches the hard edge of his brother's expression soften. "Well, your father likes things a certain way," Loki replies. "And I like doing the opposite because I find humor in it."

"Are you going to leave?" Samantha asks. Her face hasn't lost the lingering doubt, despite Loki's attempt to lighten the conversation.

Loki sighs as he sets his fork down. His hands fold together in front of him. "It's not that kind of fight. Thor and I are family. We can say things to each other that other people can't. Similar to the way you could throw that strawberry at your father at this very moment, and he would still love you afterward. I do hope you choose that large one sitting right there on the top. It does look like it might leave a nice, juicy, red mark."

A tiny smile tugs at Samantha's lips. "You don't look like my dad. Aren't you supposed to?"

Loki hesitates, something unnamable shining in his eyes for a brief moment. A beat later, he says, "We are not related by blood."

The admission surprises Thor. Immediately, he opens his mouth to tell his brother how little that matters to him, but Samantha speaks up first.

"What does that mean?" she asks, her little fingers fiddling with a strawberry stem.

"Sit up straight, and don't play with your food," Loki says. "It means I am adopted. We were raised by the same parents, and that is why we consider ourselves brothers."

Samantha sits up a bit straighter. "But you're not real brothers?"

"That is correct," Loki says.

"Oh." She takes a bite of her strawberry and chews thoughtfully for a while. Once she swallows, she says to Thor, "We should adopt a brother for me."

Thor smiles at her. His daughter's reply had assuaged his brother's otherwise dispassionate summary of their relationship. "Perhaps one day we will," Thor says.

Samantha pushes her bowl away. "I've eaten more than five bites, and that's all I promised to do. Can I go now?"

"Wash your hands first," Loki says. "With soap. Not saliva."

Samantha licks juice off of her thumb with a smirk of defiance that reminds Thor very much of Loki when he was a child—innocent mischief devoid of any bitterness. Despite Loki's best attempts to appear stern, his eyes sparkle with amusement as Samantha leaves the table. But all of that fades when the brothers exchange a glance.

Loki's eyes quickly dart away. He retrieves his fork and stabs at his salad. "There," he says, his tone clipped. "Was that really so difficult?"

Thor has never understood why Loki has taken the revelation of his adoption so hard. The lies must sting, of course, and Loki is entitled to his sense of betrayal. But regardless of all that, they were still a family until Loki decided they weren't.

"You care for Sam already," Thor says, "and yet she is no relation to you. Is it so difficult to think our parents felt any differently about you?"

Loki's answering laugh is riddled with bitterness. He wipes the corner of his mouth with his napkin and drops the cloth onto his half-finished plate of food. "Thor, our conversation has grown increasingly personal of late. I think it best to take my leave of it before I leave for good. Remember my rules."

* * *

The evening hours pass somewhat uncomfortably, with Thor sitting at the desk in the living room, attempting to sort through the hopeless piles of mail, sympathy cards, and past due bills. Loki, meanwhile, has taken up residence on the couch and thumbs through one of Jane's books on molecular geometry. His expression is exasperated, as if he wants nothing more than to rip pages out or perhaps to scribble corrections in the margins.

Samantha comes up beside Loki and tugs on the sleeve of his white button-down shirt. His eyebrows lift in her direction. "I thought you were already in bed," he says. "It's quite late."

"My tummy hurts," Samantha says. Her face is downcast, her fingers squeezing and releasing the fabric of Loki's sleeve.

Loki looks at his brother, who has already risen from his chair at the desk. Thor kneels behind his daughter and gently spins her around to face him. As he feels her cheeks and forehead for a temperature, Loki's hand moves over her head, a soft green glow falling over her. Thor recognizes the familiar glimmer of a healing spell—otherwise, he might have thrown his little brother through the window. Loki meets Thor's eyes and nods.

"And now?" Thor asks. "Does it still hurt?"

Samantha nods miserably. She inches back in Loki's direction and turns away from her father. Thor's heart pangs in reply. He doesn't understand why she's pushing him away. He's doing the best he can.

"Hmm," Loki says as he closes the book. "Well, this is indeed a mystery. Let's see if we can determine what is amiss." He sits up straight and taps a finger to his chin, making a show of examining her. "Now that I look a bit closer, I do see something rather strange. Goodness, however did _that_ get in there?"

Thor frowns and shifts his weight, watching his brother carefully. He can tell Loki is only playing with Samantha, probably just to distract her from her unhappiness. If she were truly ill, the healing spell would have fixed the problem instantly—but Thor still worries for her.

Samantha's eyes widen as Loki makes a gesture a few inches away from her heart. An illusion forms in the air before her, crimson energy appearing to draw out of her body until it spins and comes together in the form of a glowing flower. The petals are made of tiny glittering dots of light, some brighter than others, much like the stars in the night sky.

"This will surely cause an upset stomach," Loki says as he inspects it. "Good thing we found it." He offers her the flower, which floats in his hand an inch above his skin.

Thor feels a rush of gratitude to his brother as he watches his daughter accept the gift, her fingers trembling with excitement and awe. The look of distress is gone from her face until only wonder remains. After she has thoroughly examined it, her lips press together. She looks at Loki hard and says, "This wasn't _really_ inside of me."

Loki tries to fight a smile but fails. "Dearest niece, you are simply too clever to be trifled with."

"Can I keep it?" Samantha asks.

"You _may_ keep it," Loki corrects. "However, it will fade when the sun rises. Such magic is only meant for nightfall, but I will make you another tomorrow if you like."

Samantha's face lights up again at the word _magic_. "A blue one?" As she says the words, thin wisps of blue light begin to spread through the many petals of the flower.

Loki's eyes narrow with interest. "As you wish. Why don't you go find a suitable place for it in your room? It will cast starlight on your walls if you turn off the lights."

With a delighted gasp, Samantha runs off as if she's never felt sick a day in her life.

"She is not truly ill?" Thor asks when she's out of earshot.

Loki shakes his head. "I suspect our arguing has upset her. Perhaps we require a third rule. Such things should be kept behind sealed doors."

"Or we could simply cease our arguments altogether," Thor says.

"Oh, yes," Loki laughs. "_That _is likely to happen. Rule three, it is—no quarrelling in front of your daughter. She has our mother's gift, you know. Did you see the way she manipulated my spell?"

Thor stands from his kneeling position and nods. "There have been incidents since she was quite small. Minor things, like what you witnessed. Usually when she's unfocused and excited."

"She will need to learn to control it." Loki sets aside Jane's book and brings a hand to his lips, nibbling at his thumb while he ponders the problem. "I could teach her the basics at the very least. I don't think she realizes what she's doing. Though once she's aware, she will likely attempt to do it more often. She is at a most delicate age."

"Yes, I remember the early days of your magic lessons," Thor says. "Everything I owned either turned green or was mysteriously glued to random surfaces throughout the palace. I trust you with her, Loki, but I don't want you to teach her if you're only going to leave. She has already grown attached to you."

Loki snorts, giving Thor a skeptic look as he gets to his feet. "That's improbable."

"Not as much as you seem to think," Thor says. "If you won't stay for me, then do it for her. To teach her."

Though they stand separated by a few feet, it suddenly feels as though they've drawn closer. Loki looks at him, an unreadable expression on his face as he asks, "Why do you think I wouldn't stay for you? I came, did I not?" The words do not exactly resonate with affection, but they are unusually kind for Loki.

Thor moves forward at once and pulls his brother into an embrace, one hand wrapped around Loki's middle, the other protectively covering the back of his neck. He says the words he should have spoken the first moment he'd realized his little brother was there. "Thank you, Loki."

Loki exhales a sharp, impatient sigh. His arms are rigid at his sides as Thor hugs him close, but he allows it to go on without attempting to push away. "I'm sorry," he says after a beat. "I am trying. Truly, I am. But this kind of display is still unspeakably awkward."

"Hush," Thor says as he presses his mouth to Loki's temple. "Stop thinking so hard about it. Isn't that what you always tell me?"

"I suppose it is." Another sigh escapes his little brother, but this one is more resigned. The tension in Loki's body relents somewhat as he relaxes his head against the warm pressure of his brother's mouth. "You're welcome, Thor," he says at last.

* * *

Once Samantha has finally drifted off to sleep, lulled at last by the slowly dancing starlight on her walls, Thor shuts her door and guides Loki to his bedroom. His hand still lingers on the back of his little brother's neck—both possessive and protective. The mood has shifted between them, driven by the rare glimmer of warmth Loki has allowed Thor to witness. Loki's neck and shoulders are tense beneath Thor's hand as if to say he already regrets it.

As soon as Loki closes the master bedroom door and whispers a spell upon it, Thor turns him around. He draws close, pressing Loki against the door with the weight of his body. His fingers find Loki's downturned face to urge it gently upward, and Thor runs his thumb across the anxious set of his brother's jaw. Thor's advances aren't as rushed and overwrought as they were earlier. He's calmer now. More focused on what he really craves.

Loki tries to jerk his chin away but is unsuccessful. "Will you just get on with it?"

The soft pad of Thor's thumb adjusts its path to rub across Loki's lower lip. Thor moves to kiss him—warm, sweet, and unhurried. His hands fall to his little brother's shoulders and slide down his arms.

Loki's eyes clamp shut, and when he opens them again, they're aimed at the ceiling in distressed annoyance. "This is not quite what I meant," he whispers between kisses.

He touches Thor's growing erection through his jeans, but Thor catches his hand, wanting to take this slow. He's beginning to sense exactly how difficult intimacy is for Loki to endure. "What are you so afraid of?"

When Loki's eyes return to his brother, they are all pupil in the darkness. "This is not fear, Thor. I am simply _bored_." He pushes at Thor's chest until at last he can slip free of his grasp.

While Loki unbuttons his shirt, Thor strips off his own. Loki is careful to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but on his brother, but the tight set of his shoulders reveals he knows Thor watches him. Thor catches Loki by the waistband of his pants before he has a chance to unzip them, and he pulls his little brother's back flush against his chest. Their bodies mold together well—Thor's cock pressed up against his brother's ass. The taste of Loki's exposed neck on Thor's tongue is just as good.

Loki is beginning to find a comfortable rhythm now, and his back arches into his brother as Thor slips a hand down Loki's abdomen to find the button of his pants. Thor makes quick work of it and goes in search of more. "Fuck," Loki whispers as Thor takes his erection in hand. He licks his lips and leans his weight back against his brother. "_Finally_. It took you long enough."

"Hush." Thor holds Loki against him with one palm flat on his stomach while he strokes his cock with the other. He presses his face to Loki's neck and nips at the pulse that beats there, a little quicker with each passing second. "Finish undressing. I want you on the bed."

Loki's movements are a bit uncoordinated as he pushes his pants off of his hips. They fall to the floor, and he steps out of them, nearly tripping before Thor catches and steadies him. They stagger forward until Loki's knees hit the bed. He turns and sits on the edge, his breaths coming hard through his parted lips as he watches Thor unbuckle his belt. Loki leans forward to lick his brother's arousal through the rough fabric of his jeans, and Thor sighs with frustrated desire.

Impatient with Thor's speed, Loki pulls at the belt and the fastenings of the jeans until at last Thor's cock springs free before his face. It's in Loki's hand at once, but before he can take it into his mouth, Thor grips his brother's chin and angles his face upward for a kiss. Loki is thrown off momentarily, but he keeps the set of his lips open and soft against his brother's, allowing Thor's tongue to slip inside. Still maintaining a hold on Thor's cock, Loki's hand begins a series of slow strokes as Thor struggles out of his jeans. Somehow their lips never part for a second.

Once he's naked, Thor brushes Loki's hand aside and moves over him. They maintain their kiss as they change positions on the bed. Loki's head hits the pillow, and Thor presses his body down fully on top of his brother's. Their cocks rest on their bellies between them, and Loki rotates his hips impatiently as Thor continues to explore his mouth with his tongue.

"Thor," Loki gasps the second he can break away. "Enough."

"There is no such thing," Thor says in reply. But he relents the attack and trails his mouth instead down Loki's jawline and neck.

A growl has built in Loki's throat by the time Thor shifts his weight onto his knees and scoots down so that he can kiss a path along Loki's collarbone. Thor licks at a nipple, then descends to taste the tight knot of Loki's belly button as well. Loki grips Thor's hair, practically begging him with desperate tugs by the time Thor's tongue finds the length of Loki's erection. He licks the underside from base to tip and lingers at the head, teasing it with lazy wet kisses until Loki pulls his hair hard and says, "_Fucking get on with it_."

Thor chuckles and bestows a final kiss to Loki's cock. Then he sits up on his knees and reaches for the bottle of lubricant on the nightstand.

Once Loki realizes he's not in for a blowjob, he shakes his head and tries to catch his breath. "Oh, but I do hate you." He eyes the bottle and starts to roll over onto his stomach, but Thor's hand grips his shoulder to stop him.

"No. I want you facing me."

Loki hesitates, sensing the unwelcome return of Thor's desire for tenderness. "How very romantic," he says with a sneer. "Shall I conjure up a string quartet to set the mood while you sodomize me?"

"You're not going to bait me, Loki." Thor slicks up his fingers and seeks out the tight pucker of Loki's entrance. "Are you sore from earlier? We can do other things if you prefer."

Loki's teeth grit as Thor slips a finger inside of him. "What's wrong, hero? All out of rage and mindless lust? Come on—I can take it. No need to bother prepping me."

"I don't want to hurt you. I want this." Thor adds another slippery finger and dips his head down to kiss his brother while he works. He watches Loki's face between kisses, trying to determine exactly what part of this he's fighting so hard against. Thor doesn't think it has anything to do with the sex—but rather everything in between. Carefully, he pulls out his fingers and readies himself, slicking up his cock with the lubricant as well. "I will take it slow," he promises.

Loki hisses out a sigh. "I really wish you would just—_oh_." His eyes squeeze shut, his fingers worrying at the sheets as the head of Thor's cock penetrates him.

Thor's hands are still slippery with the lubricant, and he takes his brother's cock in hand, forming a tight fist. He thrusts his hips with deliberate slowness as he sinks steadily deeper into Loki. His little brother is rigid beneath him—not in pain but with rising pleasure. His face is turned to the side, his throat working as he swallows and gasps for every breath.

"Look at me," Thor demands. He hitches one of Loki's legs over his shoulders and lowers himself on top of him. His cock is now fully seated within his brother's tight heat. His hand stops pleasuring Loki until he finally obeys and meets his eyes.

"Please," Loki whispers. His fingers find Thor's arms and curl around the muscles.

Thor rests his weight on one elbow, and he touches Loki's face. "Look at me," he says again, gentler this time. "I want to see you."

Loki's attention falls away at once. Thor has the sudden desire to shake him, but he captures Loki's mouth in a kiss instead. All of it is perfect—from the friction of his cock in his brother's ass or the distracting little sounds Loki begins to make. Thor keeps his face nuzzled against his brother's, kissing him every so often but mostly desiring to watch and encourage the intimacy of the connection.

When Thor breathes his brother's name, Loki trembles beneath him, so overcome that he forgets to look away again. His eyes are impossibly vulnerable. "Thor, I can't do this," he whispers. "It's too much."

"Shhh." Thor's hips rock a bit slower, twisting a bit each time to change up the angle. "Yes, you can."

Loki grips Thor's arms with increased desperation. "I don't want to do this anymore."

Thor stops moving and stares down at his brother, searching the pleading defenselessness in his eyes. He almost gives in but remembers their conversation earlier. "Say the safe word, and I will stop," Thor promises. When nothing comes, he cautiously leans forward to kiss the corner of Loki's mouth.

"I mean it, Thor. I want you to stop."

None of these words count, but a small edge of discomfort still enters the back of Thor's mind. He would never deny his little brother the right to say no—but Loki isn't really saying that at all.

What had he said to Thor when they'd established the safe word?

_Sometimes the struggle is the best part._

Was this easier for him—to resist Thor's affection rather than laying himself vulnerable before it? Was it his pride getting in the way of something he actually desired deep down? It was if Loki was begging Thor to hold on to him tighter at the same time that he demanded to be let go. Thor had only imagined the safe word's use during the rougher sex—not for Loki's struggle with intimacy.

Thor's hips sink down, and he watches Loki's face for a reaction as he begins to thrust. Still no safe word, but Loki glares up at him, angry tears shining in his eyes as his mind still fights against him. "You're okay," Thor says, his hands coming to cradle the back of his brother's head. "I've got you."

"Get off of me_._" Loki pushes at his brother's shoulders. "_Thor, stop_."

His brother has always been a liar, but even Thor has his limits.

His arms slide under Loki's back, and he sits up on his knees, bringing his brother with him until he's straddling his lap. Thor's cock slips out of Loki, and he doesn't try to reestablish that connection. Despite the unspoken safe word, Thor simply can't take pleasure in this anymore. This isn't about him.

"You are not trapped," Thor whispers as he nuzzles Loki's face. "You are in control here. Just relax." He takes Loki's cock in hand and works at it gently, easing his brother into it.

Loki clings to Thor's shoulders, their foreheads coming to rest together. "Please," he says—but doesn't elaborate further on what he wants.

"Stop thinking," Thor tells him. "Let go of whatever this is and listen to me. You don't have to do anything with what I say except hear me. You can process it later. I love you, brother. Whether you want it or not, that truth is yours to keep. I don't care what you've done or from whom you hide. You are safe here. This is your home. You do not need to fear this. You are safe."

Loki trembles, his lips working to form syllables, and Thor thinks for one unpleasant moment that he might actually say the safe word. But instead, Loki seems to break. He moves closer, wrapping his arms around Thor's neck in the embrace he wouldn't surrender to earlier.

Thor hugs him back with one arm and keeps stroking him with his other hand. "That's it," Thor whispers in his ear. "Just let go."

It takes him a long time, but eventually Loki fully relaxes against his brother, breathing heavily as if near sleep. Thor continues to whisper promises in his ear, and eventually coaxes Loki into a hard, powerful climax. Hot seed spills over Thor's hand and clings to both of their bellies. Loki grits his teeth and hugs Thor, nearly crushing the air from his lungs, before he relaxes again—completely spent.

Thor leans back onto the mattress and takes his brother with him. Their heads are nowhere near the pillows, but neither notice nor would they have cared if they did. Thor doesn't care about anything—not that they need to clean themselves up nor that his little brother's body is too warm and heavy to make breathing an easy task. Thor holds Loki tight and pretends not to notice when his hand moves to occasionally wipe moisture from his cheeks.

* * *

To be continued.

A/N – I'll probably hold off on posting another chapter until I finish my other story. This one is becoming more involved than I originally intended, and I want to give it my full attention when the time comes.

Thanks for stopping in to read! I would love to hear what you thought if you have a few moments.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N – I've really missed writing this story, and so here is a new chapter, even though _Bargaining_ is not yet complete. Hope you enjoy.

Warning – sexual content, dubious consent, and Incest with a Capital I.

* * *

Chapter Six

The next morning, Thor wakes alone.

The sun is up outside, glaring at him through the cracks in the blinds. The sheets are in disarray around him, and the blanket is kicked nearly onto the ground from the late night struggle to find a more comfortable position in bed. The corner of the pillow offers insufficient support beneath Thor's head, but he turns his face into it anyway, unwilling to move as he takes in a deep breath. The pillowcase smells like his brother.

Thor's fingers tighten on the sheets. When it registers with his groggy mind that the space beside him is cold and empty, he sits up in a rush and looks about the room with a growing sense of dismay. Loki's clothes are no longer strewn about the floor as they'd left them last night, and Thor's are neatly folded and placed in a stack on the dresser.

His throat tightens with uneasiness. Perhaps he pushed his little brother too far this time. Loki very well could have left for good.

After a quick wash in the bathroom, Thor dresses in a hurry, barely taking the time to pull on a t-shirt and zip up a pair of jeans. He catches the sound of Samantha's laughter somewhere in the house and fears she has missed the school bus. Only when Thor opens the bedroom door and steps out into the hall does he remember that it's Saturday, and there is no school in session.

Upon his arrival in the kitchen, Thor feels instant relief when he sees his brother standing there with his arms crossed. Loki gazes down at Samantha with weary disapproval, though it is obvious he's trying not to appear amused as she giggles behind her fingers. One of her hands is clenched into a fist with her thumb hidden inside.

Loki notices his brother's arrival and throws up his hands. "Thank the Norns. Thor, this little tyrant daughter of yours is a _thief_."

"What are you talking about?" Thor asks. He looks at Samantha, who again dissolves into laughter.

"She stole my nose," Loki says, pointing at his niece accusingly. "Look, I don't know how you like to raise your children, and I fully admit that I myself am not the finest of role models—but I am personally astounded at the level of sheer audacity coming from one so young. She is a supervillain in training. A danger to all who encounter her. Her powers of deception will no doubt soon cripple the universe. You must assemble the Avengers at once."

Though Thor has woken up rather unpleasantly, he can't help but relax and smile as he looks between his brother and daughter. Samantha holds her fist to her chest as if to say she'll never give up Loki's nose without a fight. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she stares up at her uncle, and it is obvious she absolutely adores him. Thor hasn't seen her so unburdened and _childlike_ since before Jane fell ill, nor has he seen Loki so gentle and lighthearted since his fall from Asgard—and both are very good reasons for Thor to allow himself to indulge in a smile as well.

Loki leans down, resting his palms on his thighs as he comes eye level with his niece. "Exactly how do you expect me to make you a proper breakfast without my sense of smell? I could very well slip a garlic clove into your cereal bowl and not detect the problem at all. Unhand my nose, little witch."

Samantha pretends like she means to put his imaginary nose back on his face but then grabs at his ears instead. With a grin, she bounces in place and announces, "I've got your ears now."

"What?" Loki shifts his weight and cups a hand to one side of his head. "Apologies, but I must ask you to speak up. I can't seem to hear you."

Samantha collapses against him, giggling so hard that she nearly falls to the floor. Loki's hand moves behind her back to keep her upright, but once he steadies her, he lets her go. Samantha straightens and swipes at Loki's mouth. "Now you can't talk!" she laughs.

Loki falls perfectly silent, his lips pressed into a careful line. His eyes smile at her as he shakes his head slowly back and forth.

"Well, that is a miracle indeed," Thor says, ruffling his daughter's hair. "You must teach me that trick, for I have been in need of it for centuries. Well done."

As Loki silently barters with Samantha for the return of his body parts using only his hands and eyebrows to communicate, Thor moves into the kitchen to start on breakfast. He is shocked that his mood could be so positive in light of all that has happened.

The last few days have been impossibly confusing and even disturbing at times. Thor has existed only in the present moment—moving from violence to lust to anger to gratefulness in the time it takes to blink. He has wondered more than once if Jane could somehow know what he's done and how he's betrayed her memory. But as he looks at what little remains of his family, Thor wonders if perhaps Jane wouldn't mind this—that she would want her husband and daughter happy and not numb with despair.

It's not that simple, of course, but it makes it a little easier to breathe.

* * *

They spend the morning outside with the winter sun warm upon their shoulders. Thor handles yard work that he has neglected for far too long, raking in a small pile of leaves beneath the almond tree that Jane had planted in their backyard, claiming it grew well in the desert. Loki sits on the roots with Samantha and talks to her about magic.

Though Thor feels slightly shut out of their conversation, he doesn't interfere or try to take part. His daughter is distant with him for reasons he doesn't understand, but he's happy that at least she's opening up to someone. And Loki—well, there are plenty of reasons why his little brother hasn't looked him in the eye once since the prior night. Thor thinks it best to give them both a bit of space, though he feels more than a little lonely on the edge of their discussion.

He isn't used to not being at the center of his daughter's world. Or Loki's, for that matter.

Thor isn't certain if he has been cast out of the circle or if they have simply moved on and left him standing still.

Loki holds up a withered, dried-out leaf in front of Samantha's face, and she watches with amazement as tendrils of color trickle back through the stem. A rainbow of fall hues pass through the leaf in reverse order—red, orange, yellow, and finally green. She is absolutely delighted by the display and makes her uncle show her the trick again and again until there is a pile of perfect leaves between them, all of them the deep green of summer.

Still unsatisfied, Samantha goes on a search for more dead leaves for Loki to transform. Thor waits patiently as she trudges through his pile of raked leaves to grab a handful, and he says nothing to scold or dissuade her. A plan is formulating behind her clear blue eyes, and she looks more than a little like Frigga as she beams up at Loki and shoves the dried leaves into his hands. "Teach me how to bring things back to life," she says. "I want to try."

Loki's lips part, but he hesitates before offering a reply. Thor also stops what he's doing when he hears his daughter's demand. He wonders if she thinks it might be possible to bring her mother back to life if she learns Loki's trick, and judging from the look on his brother's face, Loki is thinking the same. Though he has demonstrated several times that he is unwilling to lie to Samantha the way he was lied to in his childhood, it is obvious Loki is just as reluctant to say anything that will bring down her mood in the slightest. If Thor has any reservations about trusting Loki with Samantha, they seem to disappear a bit more each time he sees them together.

"Well, I didn't bring anything back to life exactly," Loki says. "It's an illusion. I tricked your eyes into thinking the leaves changed color. Would you like me to teach you that? It will take quite a bit of time to master, but I think you're capable of it in the future."

Samantha squints at his face, looking as if she's trying to fit his answer in with her understanding of what happened. Then she blinks down at the leaf in her hand and says, "You mean, it's still dead?"

Loki looks at Thor, silently asking for help.

Thor sets his rake against the tree and kneels down beside her, but Samantha pulls away before he can touch her.

"I don't want to talk about it," she says, her voice suddenly far too grown up for a six-year-old. "I just didn't understand. I'm going inside." Her cheeks are stained red as she drops the leaf and retreats into the house, letting the door slam behind her.

With a sigh, Loki stands and brushes dirt off of his hands. "Sorry," he says. "I didn't anticipate that, though I probably should have." He looks around the yard but is careful not to let his eyes rest on his older brother. The awkwardness from the prior evening's events still lingers between them. It is easier to ignore with Samantha present.

"It's all right," Thor replies. "She has always asked difficult questions. She gets it from her mother, I suppose. I've talked to her about death before, and that was about the same time she stopped talking to me at all. Take warning from that."

Loki plucks a dried leaf off of his sleeve and lets it fall away into the wind. "Well, therein lies your problem. When has talking ever done any good? People lie, Thor. Words hold no meaning until actions make them true."

Thor wonders if this has anything to do with the string of promises he had whispered into his brother's ear the night before. "Not everyone lies, Loki."

But Thor is only speaking to his brother's back, for Loki has turned to walk away. "I will go make amends with your daughter," he calls over his shoulder. "Likely in the form of something sweet and unhealthy. I would not mind overly much if you were to join us, though we both know you won't."

And he's right.

* * *

Loki distracts Samantha with tasks for much of the day, forcing her to help him tidy the house and fold her freshly washed school clothes. Afterward, he asks her to clean up the Legos from the floor of her bedroom but quickly becomes distracted with them instead.

Hours later, Thor comes to check on them in her bedroom and discovers that every single toy Samantha owns has been brought out. Stuffed animals line the bed as if serving as an audience, and on the floor, Loki and Samantha have constructed a city out of her bin of Legos. There are dinosaurs, aliens, zoo animals, and superheroes carefully arranged in the streets and on top of buildings. Loki has used a spell to send a Lego spaceship hovering in the air above the city.

"We need more power," Samantha shouts.

"Right," Loki says with a decisive nod. He hands over the jewel-encrusted fairy wand in his lap. "Take my scepter. But I warn you, dearest niece. It is a weapon most powerful, gifted to me by a warlord of old. I beg of thee to take heed."

Samantha snatches the wand away from him and waves it at the hovering spaceship. When she notices her father watching them, her arms lower with uncertainty.

Thor leans against the doorjamb and says, "Dinner is ready."

"Just a moment," Loki says as he struggles to force a high-heeled boot onto a Barbie doll. "We are reenacting the battle of New York with a much improved ending. I'm just getting Tony Stark ready for his grand finale."

Samantha takes the Barbie away from him, gripping it by its long, brunette hair. "Oh, no, Iron Man fell out of the universe!" she says. Then she throws the doll past Thor and out into the hallway, where it connects violently with the wall.

Loki presses a hand to his heart. "I think this might be the proudest moment of my life. _Well done,_ niece."

"Kitchen, please," Thor says to his daughter. "Go eat your dinner. You may play more after you're finished." As he steps aside to let Samantha scamper past him out of the doorway, Thor shakes his head at his brother. "You would make a questionable parent," he says, though he's struggling not to smile.

Loki doesn't appear sorry in the least. "Possibly. But I am the _best_ uncle. Oh, lighten up." He points at the mangled Barbie in the hallway. "Tell me that wasn't hilarious."

"I have not seen her that happy in some time," Thor admits. "She will not respond to my attempts to comfort her. I'm glad she's at least opening up to you."

Loki shrugs as if to say it was nothing. "It's not difficult to distract a child's attention away from sadness. You're so serious these days. You've forgotten how to play."

Thor lifts his eyebrows at the pink feather boa draped around his brother's shoulders. "And you've forgotten how to be serious."

"Uh, no. No, I have not," Loki says with a bitter chuckle. He gets to his feet and carefully sidesteps the Legos. "I've just had a stomach full of it."

Any semblance of a smile on Thor's face melts away. He blocks his brother's attempt to leave the room, and the question is out of his mouth before he can stop himself. "Loki, where have you been all these years?"

Loki's chin lifts in sudden defiance. He pulls the boa off of his shoulders and turns away to place it on the bed. His tone is quiet as he says, "I thought we agreed not to talk about such things. Leave it alone, Thor."

"You know I can't."

Loki glances around uncomfortably, again looking anywhere but at his brother. "You once told me you would kill me if I betrayed you again."

"And you haven't betrayed me since," Thor says. "You were true to your word and helped me protect Jane. And then you apologized and finally proved to me that my brother was somewhere inside of you, buried beneath all the hatred and anger. Have you been wondering why I didn't strike out at you when you first appeared to me here?"

Loki swallows. "You might say that, yes."

Thor wonders if Loki is trying to hint to him that he has betrayed him some other way. "I have lost too many loved ones," Thor says. "I will not second-guess the return of one of them. And I beg you, Loki, please do not give me reason to regret that. You have every opportunity here to destroy me fully. I am choosing to trust my brother. Where have you been, Loki? I need to know."

When Loki finally meets his eyes, Thor sees the shadow of fear deep inside of them. Immediately, he knows that the answer will not be good. "I have been somewhere where I had to be far too serious," Loki says quietly. "I don't want to talk about it, Thor, and I don't want to think about it either. I have stayed here only because you asked me to. Will you please grant me peace in return?"

Thor presses his lips together into a careful line. It's not the response he was hoping for, but it is an answer of sorts. He now knows his brother has been somewhere uncomfortable. Someplace so bad that he doesn't even want to remember it. Loki is a capable liar, but the disturbingly fragile look on his face is not manufactured. And so Thor says nothing as Loki pushes past him into the hallway beyond because he doesn't want to see that look on his little brother's face ever again.

* * *

Hours later, after dinner is eaten and everything cleaned and put away, Thor sits outside by himself on the dark patio. The night air is chilly, though not as much as the one before. Winter seems to be stretching toward spring, though the branches of the almond tree are still barren and cold. Thor feels lonely as he sits there and listens to the wind, but he makes no move to go inside to join his family. His mind is fraught with worry—for both Samantha and Loki. Neither one of them will tell Thor how to fix things, and he doesn't know what to do with himself in turn. He has always been the one in charge of mending.

The backdoor opens, and the sound of boots on the porch tells Thor who it is. "She's asleep," Loki says as he closes the door. "How long have you been out here?"

Thor shrugs and folds his hands together in front of him.

Loki walks over to where Thor sits on the porch stairs and chuckles lightly as he observes his brother's posture. "This again," Loki says with no small amount of scorn. "I thought you had moved past this depressing stage."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Thor replies.

Loki smirks, amused by his brother's pouting. He leans against the porch railing and says, "Shall I call upon my powers to incite your anger again? How I do enjoy being pounded into the ground against my will."

Thor's lips part, and he turns his head to glare at his brother.

Loki lifts his eyebrows and says, "That was a joke, Thor."

"And yet I find no humor in it," Thor says. "I think I proved last night that I will always stop."

"That you did," Loki admits. He pushes away from the railing and draws close. After he kneels in front of Thor, his fingertips find his brother's knees. They spread and slide upward with deliberate slowness until his palms rest flat on Thor's thighs. Loki's eyes are completely black in the darkness. His skin is pale, otherworldly. "You asked me earlier to talk to you," he says, "and so here is a deep, dark secret. I think you have misinterpreted my need to fight you as me wanting you to stop. Allow me to be perfectly clear. When I fight back, it's only so that you will give it to me harder."

Loki's palms move upward again, dragging against the rough fabric of Thor's jeans to where it bunches at the top of his legs. With a sharp intake of air, Thor's posture straightens. His brother's hand presses up against his cock—not touching it but so close that Thor's pulse begins to speed. Loki adjusts his position, moving his hips more snugly in between Thor's thighs. Their lips come within a whisper of each other, and Thor feels overcome by the sudden closeness. His mind had not been in such places only moments before, but he is hopelessly addicted to this now.

Thor's eyes close as he leans in for a kiss, but Loki pulls just far enough away to evade him. His teeth glint white in the darkness.

"I like it when you're rough with me," Loki says, each word a taunt as he presses his nails into Thor's thighs. "I prefer it, in fact, to your gentler advances. I enjoy inciting your anger, and not so that I can get the upper hand on you. I like being held down afterwards and forced to take my punishment. I like it when you strike me with your belt and then tie me up with it. I like saying no and only getting fucked harder in reply."

He puts emphasis on the curse word to make it sound all the more perverse. His thumb strokes along the length of Thor's erection, drawing out a hiss of frustration that makes Loki's smile widen. He leans forward to kiss the corner of Thor's mouth and then whispers against the wet place he left there.

"It is a release and rubs at something inside of me in a very needed way," Loki says against his brother's skin. "I don't like admitting all of this, of course, because I still see myself as dominant. I am not a weakling, Thor, nor will I ever fully submit to you. But it seems you need reassurance that this is consensual. Rest assured that I am selfish by nature and would not be doing this if I didn't find pleasure in it. Stop taking it all so seriously. Let me show you how to play." He nips at his brother's bottom lip and smiles. "Shall I remind you why I'm the villain, brother? I do feel I am in need of punishment."

Loki's fingers again dig into Thor's thighs, muscles tense as if he's about to attack. Thor has stayed relatively still up until this point, but he can't ignore the threat any longer. His hands find Loki's upper arms and grip them tight. Their lips brush together. Not yet a kiss. Still only flirtation. Loki's eyes dance with playful malice as his hands slide under his brother's shirt and find the hot, muscled skin of his stomach underneath. Thor relaxes his hold and lets one hand ease upward until his fingers twist in Loki's hair. He pulls and forces his brother's head to stay still. Their tongues touch before their lips do.

Loki moans as they kiss, and the pleading sound of it does things to Thor's head. He wants this. He wants it so badly, he could take his little brother right there on the porch. Thor pulls at Loki's hair—slowly but with unrelenting firmness—until their lips part as his brother's head is bent backwards. The pale length of his throat is exposed to Thor's greedy eyes. "You really want me to hurt you?" he asks as he goes in to taste.

Loki swallows, and his throat works against the wet heat of Thor's tongue. "Only if you promise to ignore my screams to stop. Mmm. Pull harder."

"Well, I would ignore you," Thor points out. "Only it doesn't sound like you're saying no."

"Then work more diligently at pleasing me so that I don't have to ask."

Thor twists his fingers until Loki lets out a cry of distress. "Too hard," Loki gasps, his belly heaving with every breath. Thor only pulls harder, and Loki laughs in breathless reply. "Now you're getting the hang of it. Shall we make a dash for the bedroom? I'm shielding us with a glamour, but it might fail if I lose focus."

"We can't do this inside," Thor says, loosening his hold and letting his hand slip down the back of his brother's neck. "This is not going to be quiet."

Loki gets to his feet and backs away from the porch, narrow hips swaying, every step meant to torment and tease. "Now don't go making promises unless you intend to keep them."

* * *

They end up in the garage, half of which is occupied by the car. The empty space is where Thor keeps his tools and workbench, and it smells of wood shavings and cold iron. Moonlight pools onto the floor from a window high above, and a long chain dangles from the rafters, which once held a punching bag that did not last long. Jane had made him move it when Thor's blows threatened to pull down the entire structure.

Loki swallows when he sees the chain. His demeanor is not nearly as confident as Thor's shadow falls over him.

"Take off your shirt," Thor says. The command is quietly spoken, though offering little room for refusal.

Loki's fingers go to his top button, and he turns toward Thor while he unfastens it. His gaze drops to Thor's hands, which hold a bit of thin rope, and the level of Loki's chin immediately lowers. He draws in deep breaths and blinks rapidly as if he's having second thoughts—and every bit of it is an act.

"Hands," Thor says.

After Loki sets aside his shirt on the workbench, he holds out his hands in front of him. "What are you going to do?" he asks.

Thor binds Loki's wrists together with the rope. Though he doesn't have the same set of skills as his brother, every Aesir warrior knows how to tie a knot and infuse it with magic so that it will not come free. Loki's arm and shoulder muscles tense as he pulls against the rope and finds he can't break it. Thor lifts his brother's arms over his head and ties the rope to the chain as high as he can reach.

Loki gasps as he's left dangling there, his feet touching the ground but barely so. The muscles in his arms strain against their bonds, and his cheeks suck in with a mixture of concentration and discomfort. Thor runs his palms down Loki's body, starting with the bound hands, then moving along the trembling arms. His rib bones are prominent in this position, and Thor slips his fingers in the smooth places between them. When he reaches Loki's waist, he undoes the belt and rips it from the loops. He doesn't pause to remind Loki of the safe-word. His brother's eyes burn with apprehension—but also with lust. There is no need of such things.

Thor makes quick work of his brother's remaining clothes, stripping him completely naked. Afterward, he walks around Loki two times, still fully clothed himself. He makes certain that Loki knows it and feels Thor's attention on every curve and hard place on his exposed body.

"I will return," Thor says, tapping Loki's ass lightly with the folded leather belt in his hand. "Don't go anywhere."

* * *

From the house, Thor retrieves exactly two things and brings them back to the garage. He sets down a bottle of lubricant at Loki's feet and says, "Can you seal the door from here? I don't want any chance of her walking in."

"Already done," Loki says. His fingers strive to loosen the knot at his wrists, but it is a hopeless effort. "Brother, please. Why do you have that?"

Thor's fingers tighten around Mjolnir, which Loki eyes suspiciously. "I thought you wanted me to hurt you."

Loki licks his lips and says, "That's not exactly what I had in mind."

Thor carries his weapon to where the end of the chain drags on the floor beside Loki's feet. He sets the hammer down, pinning the chain to the concrete. At his command, Mjolnir comes to life and crackles with the promise of lightning. The electricity travels up the length of the metal chain and finds its target. Loki is already shouting threats at Thor by the time it hits him. He seizes up when he feels it—but not worryingly so. If there is one thing Thor knows how to control, it is this. He has often put his hands on his weapon and encouraged it to bite back. A little bit of the current felt good. Painful—but exciting and stimulating at the same time.

Loki shivers in its wake, and Thor draws close to him, sliding his palms curiously down his brother's chest, letting his thumbs encourage the nipples into stiff points. "How do you like that?" Thor asks.

"I _hate_ you," Loki spits in reply.

But Thor only chuckles and bends his head to take one of his brother's nipples into his mouth. He waits until Loki's tension begins to melt into pleasure before he hits him with the lightning again. Loki cries out and tries to pull away, but Thor's hands move to his waist and keep him still. He teases the nipple first with his tongue but then uses his teeth. Electricity buzzes between them.

"Stop, stop," Loki begs. "It hurts, Thor, _please_ _please stop_."

No safe-word. Thor presses forward, but he touches the chain so that he can feel exactly how much current his brother is receiving. Thor knows he can handle it, and that Loki is perfectly safe. And very, very good at pretending he isn't.

He is glad Loki was honest with him during their discussion about consent earlier. Thor feels free to enjoy this.

As Loki pleads, he tries not to let any part of his skin touch the metal, but it's no use. Thor has tied the rope to the chain in too purposeful a way. He drops to his knees in front of Loki and lets his open mouth drag down his stomach and abdomen. His hands move from Loki's hips around to grip his ass instead. The muscles clench and strain beneath his fingers as Loki fights against his bonds. His cock won't stay still, and Thor laughs a little as he has to chase it with his mouth, finally pinning it to his brother's abdomen with his lips before licking a slow path upward to the head. Electricity stings at the wet trail he leaves and crackles in Thor's mouth.

"Don't you _dare_," Loki all but shouts.

When Thor takes in his brother's cock, Loki makes a kind of desperate, sobbing sound. Though he might like the oral pleasure, there is a bite of electricity to it. Thor pulls him closer, encouraging him to sink deeper down into his throat, and soon Loki is spitting curses up at the ceiling. Though his cock is fully aroused, Loki's breaths start to come a little too fast as if he's panicking. Thor decides to ease up. He calls off Mjolnir's lightning but continues to suck his brother off. His fingers feel around on the floor for the bottle of lubricant.

Loki grits his teeth and thrust his hips forward sharply as if in retaliation. Thor slaps Loki's ass, drawing out a pained cry of surprise. But when Loki recovers, he only laughs and rocks his hips forward again. Thor takes it and relaxes the muscles in his throat while his brother begins fucking his mouth. Thor closes his lips around Loki's cock and sucks him off hard—no teasing, no licking. Just strong, deep pulls meant to level his brother's control completely. Loki's thrusts become less focused after that, but it isn't until Thor's fingers slip between the cheeks of his ass that Loki takes to begging again.

Thor has slicked his fingers up with the lubricant. He starts with two and soon adds a third, pressuring his brother to open up to him quickly.

"Thor," Loki cries. "_Ah_. Please, it's too much."

He pulls against his bonds but soon seems to give up. He lets himself hang limply and trembles while he focuses in on this added sensation. As Thor continues to work his mouth over Loki's cock, his fingers move faster and rub purposefully against the sweet spot inside, knowing he's found it when a fresh wave of expletives spill out of his little brother's lips.

It goes on like that for a while, with Thor in obvious control until Loki gradually comes to reclaim it. His feet rest more solidly on the ground, and his hips begin to move. Soon he's fucking himself back against Thor's fingers and rutting forward into his mouth. Thor slaps his ass again as if to spur him on.

"Yes," Loki gasps. "Oh, fuck. Thor, do it again. The lightning."

At Thor's bidding, Mjolnir crackles to life, and Loki writhes and strains as a powerful orgasm takes him. Thor sucks and swallows down everything his brother offers.

* * *

When he releases Loki's hands, Thor has to catch his brother before he falls to the ground. Loki's body is limp and sated, but he regains his composure after a moment. He smiles almost drunkenly as Thor unties the rope from his wrists. There are red stripes across them.

"_Ooh_," Loki says, his tongue flicking out. "You've left marks. Anywhere else you care to roam?"

Thor pushes him toward the car, and Loki quickly takes the hint. With a heated look of lust, he bends over the hood. Thor unbuckles his belt, his eyes on the marks he's already left on his brother's ass. It's not quite the right color yet. Wanting to touch the skin himself, Thor casts the belt aside and slaps his brother with his palm instead, gripping his ass cheek afterward.

Loki stops breathing for a moment. But then leans back into his brother's hand and says, "Again. You know you want to."

And so Thor lays into him with a torrent of unforgiving blows. They number in the dozens and his hand is throbbing by the time he's finally willing to listen to Loki's desperate pleas to stop.

His little brother is left weak and trembling beneath him—and so, so beautiful. Loki pants, his breaths fogging up the metal of the car's hood. Thor stares down at the inflamed, bruised cheeks as he unbuttons his jeans. He's so hard, he can barely get the zipper down.

As he strokes himself, Thor leans down to graze his lips against the hot flesh, loving the way he can feel the heat radiating upward before he even touches the skin. "Now, this is what I like," he says. "I like seeing you punished this way—but only by my hand. If anyone else ever touches you like this, they will be the one who is punished. You are mine. I don't want you to fight this, brother. I want you to give in and let me take you."

Loki lets out a little groan as Thor guides him onto his back. The metal beneath him is ice cold, and Loki hisses when his well-punished skin meets with it. After a moment, he decides he likes it. His shoulders sag as he lets out a slow breath of relief.

Thor pulls him to the edge of the hood and moves between his thighs. His cock presses against Loki's entrance, and there is a wonderfully drawn out moment of pressure. Loki leans back, adjusts the angle of his tailbone, and sighs happily as the head of Thor's cock finally penetrates him.

"Brother," Loki whispers, his fingers tightening around Thor's forearms. His eyes open, and he smiles up at Thor with wicked intent.

It is Thor's turn to moan then. His head feels hazy with pleasure. He wants Loki to say that word again. Thor rocks into him slowly at first, though there is little need to ease Loki into it. He is completely relaxed and compliant as Thor sinks slowly deeper. His thighs begin to tremble. "Say that again," he commands.

Loki's eyes narrow slightly but then light up when he remembers the last thing he said. "Mmm, but you are bad. How long have you wanted this, _brother_? Did you look at me when we were younger, wrestling in the fields or bathing in the river, and think about taking me this way?"

Thor grabs his brother's hips, holding them steady as he quickens his pace. He is buried to the hilt now in Loki's tight, burning heat.

Loki laughs at the obviousness of his brother's reaction. "I know I did. I would touch myself at night, remembering how you looked and felt. Once I even did pleasure myself while you were sleeping next to me. Isn't that the absolute wickedest thing you've ever heard? My own _brother_."

Thor has no idea if any of this is true, but he doesn't want Loki to stop weaving this spell for him with his words. His fingers dig into Loki's hips hard enough to leave bruises. The car begins to rock beneath them. "Why didn't you act on it?" Thor asks, each word difficult to get out. He lifts a hand to rub his thumb across his brother's mouth, delighting in the teasing curve of it.

"Oh, I wanted to," Loki says between nips at Thor's thumb. "But I only dared imagine it. I thought about pulling the sheets back and staring at your body. Or going down on you before you were awake enough to realize what was happening. I would have sucked you off only long enough to get you hard, and then I would have straddled you and taken you in deep. Just like you are now. Tell me, Thor. Do you like fucking your little brother?"

Thor's hand moves to close around Loki's neck. He squeezes only tight enough to let him know it's there.

Loki appears absolutely delighted that he's getting a rise out of his brother. He takes hold of his own cock, which is aroused again, and he starts to stroke. "You_ do_. Would that we have initiated this sooner. So many places we could have sullied at home in Asgard. The stables. The training grounds. The throne room. Would you like to hear what I've imagined we would do there?"

Thor's breaths are ragged. He is close, and the sound of Loki's voice only pushes him nearer to the edge. He grasps his brother behind the neck and hauls him upward to meet his lips.

Loki smiles against Thor's mouth and gasps out words between kisses. "Well, I am King in this particular daydream, of course. _Ah_. Right there." He writhes beneath Thor as he finds a particularly good place to rub against. "And you are in chains, kneeling before me. Oh, fuck—yes, make me feel it tomorrow." Loki works his cock faster between them. "Everyone is there in the throne room, watching you service me. And their faces, Thor. Oh, they are _horrified_. And neither one of us care."

Thor's fingers reposition themselves and squeeze, purposefully choking his brother, though he really doesn't want Loki to stop talking. Thor just wants to hear him struggle to get out the words.

"I show my willing slave the sweetest of mercies," Loki finishes with a breathless smile. His free hand goes to Thor's cheek, which he caresses in covetous delight. "All over your grateful, adoring face."

They are the last words Loki can get out before Thor loses any semblance of control. He pounds his little brother beyond the ability to form words, choking him and straining down to kiss the gasping mouth. Thor grinds his orgasm into Loki, who practically sobs with relief as he spills his own climax onto his stomach.

* * *

Afterward, Thor is unwilling to move. He pulls out of his brother but stays positioned on top of him. He feels wrung out. Boneless. Like he could sleep for a thousand years. He presses his mouth against his brother's temple and inhales. "I think we dented my car," he mutters.

Loki's fingertips trail down Thor's spine with surprising tenderness. His shoulders shake with silent laughter. "That's more like it," he says. "Finally, after all your moping about, you fuck me properly at last."

Thor sighs wearily and rises up until his weight rests on his forearms. "Brother," he says, leaning down to press a kiss between Loki's eyebrows. "Do you ever shut up?"

Loki only grips his stomach and laughs harder in reply.

* * *

To be continued.

A/N – I'm . . . pretty darn sure that's the dirtiest thing I've ever written. Hope you enjoyed. I'd love to know what you thought if you have a moment.


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